


Red as Blood

by sapphirebluerubyredroses



Category: EOS 10 (Podcast)
Genre: Forced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Moulin Rouge AU, Multi, Two universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirebluerubyredroses/pseuds/sapphirebluerubyredroses
Summary: "The words they'd spoken throughout those months ran through his head, just a rattle, just a murmur, just a scream between his ears. He was breathing heavily, his head pressed between his knees, a sob lodged in his throat.He could still feel him there, cradled his arms, pressed against his chest. He could hear the rattle of his last breath, the strain of his words. he could see the last bit of life fading from his eyes, feel the shattering of his heart."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry for this.
> 
> Chapter 2 soon to follow.
> 
> EDIT 29APR18: I don't think I ever explained that this story is actually two separate universes. So the first two chapters and all even numbered chapters are in the verse that EOS 10 itself takes place in, and then chapter 3 and all odd numbered chapters are an alternate verse more embodying the feel of Moulin Rouge.

' _You have a lot of nerve just being you_.'

' _Mornin', darlin'_.'

' _My. Eyes. Are. Up. Here_.'

' _Hath not a terrorist eyes.._.'

' _He's not my... What are you doing here?_ '

' _I like bunnies, okay? ...shut up!_ '

' _I just wanted to make sure that you're alright.._.'

' _So you believe me_?'

' _Ryan.._.'

' _I can't lose you... You're all I have left..._ '

The words they'd spoken throughout those months ran through his head, just a rattle, just a murmur, just a scream between his ears. He was breathing heavily, his head pressed between his knees, a sob lodged in his throat.

He could still feel him there, cradled his arms, pressed against his chest. He could hear the rattle of his last breath, the strain of his words. he could see the last bit of life fading from his eyes, feel the shattering of his heart.

He was nothing, nothing without him. That man... he had been everything. He had done so many things for him, and so many things had been returned in kind. The love he held flooded his body, overwhelmed his mind, smothered his soul.

What was he without that man? What was he supposed to do now? Where was he supposed to go? There would never be another love for him.

He sat on their bed, and he cradled their cat, and he sobbed quietly in the silence of an emptied home.

Inhaling a shuddering gasp as he sat straight, pressing a palm to his mouth, he saw the papers and pens scattered across the desk. Pushing to his feet, Morpheus jumping from his arms, he stumbled towards the desk to stare down at the words he'd written. He'd never been a very creative man, not in this way, not with words. He'd never been able to align them in an order that made music instead of discord. He'd never found joy in writing, but this wasn't a story to be written out of joy. It was a story to be told in remembrance, in grief, in sorrow. He would tell their story, **his** story. Then, he would leave EOS 10 and join that man in oblivion.

He would be angry, outraged when they met again, but it would fade, and they would finally have the chance to be happy.

With trembling fingers, he pulled a page and pen towards him. The first words he wrote were, ' _The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return._ '


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan slammed through the door, sliding across the floor and coming to a stop against a naked bed. He coughed, clutching at his chest. Wheezing, he hissed, “Dr. Osolong?” Struggling to his feet, he fell back into the bed as he was shoved off his feet once more. “Dr. Osolong, what's going on?” He stared at the other doctor, mind racing, chest heaving as his lungs struggled to fill with oxygen. Holding his throbbing wrist, he watched the other doctor insert a needle into a tiny vile of clear, pink tinted liquid. Panic and something close to remembered longing filled his chest. “What's going on? Why did you ask me to come here?”

Smiling sweetly, he turned to face Ryan fully, setting the vial on a small desk beside the door. “I thought it would have been obvious by now. Why **do** you think I asked you here? To an uninhabited room? What reason could I possibly have?”

Swallowing thickly, Ryan pushed himself back across the bed slowly, away from Osolong and the being he'd brought along with him. “I thought... You've been acting strange lately, ever since you returned from your vacation with those burns. I thought you were going to explain what had changed.” Laughter spilled from Osolong's mouth, and he frowned, eyebrows pulling together.

Osolong rolled his eyes. “You didn't even think to question why I would try and befriend someone like you after so long, why I pushed it so hard. You of all people. Pathetic. It was that nurse of yours wasn't it? Filling your head with the thought that maybe I was actually interested in you. What a laugh. Her name is Jane, right? Stupid girl.” He shook his head. “Of course, she wasn't completely wrong. I am interest in you, but for an entirely different reason.” Holding the needle in steady fingers, he crawled into the bed. “Hold still, or this is going to hurt more than you'd like. I trust you remember the feeling.”

Ryan rolled away from him, but there were arms ready to catch him on the other side. They held him fast, pinning his arms to his sides and wedging a knee high between his legs. His breathing increased as he watched Osolong pull closer.

Pinching at the delicate skin of his wrist, Ryan could barely keep from wincing as the needle was slid smoothly into a vein.

“Normally, I wouldn't use a needle, but it seems to be a more direct route of application than our normal methods. Either way, there's just something about watching it pierce the flesh, something... _arousing_.” The word rasped between his teeth as he stared at the dot of blood that welled at the puncture site.

Ryan wriggled, struggling against the arms. He snarled, “What was in that needle?”

The arms released him, dropping him back to the bed. A hand against the back of his head pressed his face into the mattress and a knee between his shoulder blades pressed the air from his lungs. Thick fingers wrapped around his aching wrist, tightening until he groaned.

Osolong left the bed, snatching up the vial. “Oh, nothing too important, just something new I'm testing out. I'm creating a drug strong enough that it will override that pesky implant of yours. This is just the first batch, so I'm not expecting much from it. It's beautiful, don't you think? I'm trying to use the natural hormones found in the human brain to create drugs. This one will be called Joy when it is complete.” Holding the vial up, he squinted as he smiled at it. “If I can override that implant of yours, I'm sure addiction will be immediate and instantaneous. I have other plans for you as well. And I'll reimburse you for your services. Don't you worry your pretty little head into thinking I'll force this all upon you without proper compensation.”

Glaring at his, Ryan snarled, “What could you give me in return for sixteen years of sobriety? What could you possibly give me that would hold the same worth?”

The smile still pulling at his lips, Osolong leaned sideways to look at him. “Information to help your terrorist clear his name, and the connections to achieve such a feet.”

Ryan stilled, eyes holding on him. He grimaced, eyes flickering away. At the base of his skull, his implant sparked as it worked to eradicate the drug that had been introduced to his system. “How... how do you know about him?” he asked, breathless.

“The two of you, you mean? Oh, I know a lot more than you think. I know he is smitten with you, and despite all of your protests to the contrary, you care for him a more than a friend as well. I know that he is somewhere on this station. I know that you're using every spare moment that you're not cleaning up whatever catastrophe has been caused by that buffoon of a saucier to search for more information that could possibly help him. I know that you'll do **anything** to get that information.”

Stiffening, Ryan returned his eyes to Osolong, fear gliding slickly through his body.

Osolong's smile turned cunning. “Oh yes, I know all about that as well. And since your terrorist destroyed my stores when he tried to blow me up the last time, I'll make you a proposition. You become my property, my doll, and allow my clients your body as they wish, and allow me to test my drugs on you, and I will feed you information to free him. You won't be alone. There are others in my employ that I'm sure you've met and will meet again, but you will be **mine**. How does that sound, love? You won't get a better offer.”

Ryan bit back the words that tumbled onto his tongue. As the last of the drug was purged and his implant went dormant once more, he was left gasping. Closing his eyes tightly, he nodded.

Osolong stood straight, smile finally reaching his eyes. He slipped the vial into the front of his scrubs, patting the pocket. “Good. I'll have someone collect you when the time comes. For now, just go about your normal work schedule.” Pausing, he bent back down, gripping Ryan's chin in tight, unforgiving fingers, nails cutting into his cheek. “Remember, if you try to cross me, if you even make any suggestion of what we've discussed to anyone, I will make sure everyone you care about is tortured in front of you in the most gruesome fashion possible before tossing their still breathing bodies out an airlock.” He narrowed his eyes. “Looks like the implant worked as it should.” Sighing, he released him. “Back to the drawing board then. See you soon, love. Try to get a good night's rest.”

The knee lifted from his back. Ryan lay still, face pressed into the bed, until their footsteps had disappeared down the corridor. Rolling onto his back and running the back of his hand against his mouth, he whispered, “What have I agreed to?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry if the sudden switch is confusing, but it'll make more sense (hopefully) as more chapters come out. If you have any questions, just ask.

Akmazian jumped back, pressing himself flat against the wall as a crowd of bumbling, drunk party goers trampled passed in every manner of dress and level of inebriation. Their laughter rang through the corridor, their vulgar speech pinging back to him along the metal.

He closed his eyes for a long moment. He should return to the cargo bay he'd taken control of, distributing alcohol, drugs, plants, weapons, Class A animal companions, and any other items that could be thought up from. He should go back and simply deal with the overwhelming amount of noise the Alliance's biggest thorn in the side, biggest pain in the ass, produced on a nightly basis. He should go sleep, but... he was curious. He hadn't explored his new home. He only known of EOS 10's nature from whispered secrets at exchanges and the Alliance's constant string of complaints, and of course, the singing that pierced his dreams each night.

There was the voice, the one that woke him. It was mid-range, partially monotone, but it snatched at his interested. He wanted to know the person the voice belonged to.

Peeling away from the wall, he followed the trail of glitter and clothes towards the Promenade, or at least, what would be considered the Promenade on any normal Alliance vessel.

This was where his dilemma lay.

EOS 10 was no longer a **normal** Alliance vessel. For as long as he'd been apart of the Alliance -really, there was no point in his life- EOS 10 had been the sector's most notorious brothel and burlesque vessel. It saw traffic from every known galaxy in the system, and further most rotations. Most days, it received over 400,000 visitors all coming for pleasure and booze and entertainment of an illicit kind.

The Alliance would and could do nothing about EOS 10 though. It was the only way station in the system, but not only that, the last time they'd tried to shut EOS 10 down, they'd had to limp away with their tail tucked between their legs, a fact Akmazian reveled in.

Possibly, an ex-Alliance station wasn't the best place for an ex-Alliance spy and soon-to-be wanted terrorist to take asylum. On the other, a brothel with the balls to throw the Alliance's policies back in their face maybe was the best place to hide in plain sight.

The hall was relatively quiet, but as he drew closer to the Promenade, the music and laughter and conversations grew in volume. When he'd reached the doors, he barely had any thought other than the words pushing into his ears. As he stepped through the doors, any hope of hearing himself think ever again was thrown to the four winds.

Bodies pressed in on him from every available angle, some innocently, some not so innocently. Some were humans, some were humanoid, and some were obviously alien by his standards.

The dance floor, sunk down a level from the ground floor, was an explosion of color. The flash of sequins nearly blinded him while the flash of sweat slicked bare flesh nearly had him light headed. He wanted to join the crush of bodies, to feel the press of bare skin. Patrons and employees alike crowded the floor. A group stood on the second level looking down onto the dancers. They wore outfits that were so revealing it was a wonder they were considered clothing at all. Gathered around a microphone, their voices filled the room to overflowing.

Slipping onto a stool at the bar against a far wall overlooking the commotion, he allowed his shoulders to loosen, his breath to deepen. He saw no Alliance colors, and if officers and enlisted were in the crowd, they were not abiding by the Alliance's code of conduct for the night. He glanced to the... -the man?- the person mixing drinks with quick, sure fingers. Turning to watch the performers as he waited, he shifted on the stool as they all but made love to the microphone. Below them on the ground level, performers dressed in ruffles and glitter laughed wildly as they spun around each other. The pair in the middle of the performers pulled each other into a deep, lethargic kiss.

Akmazian glanced away, his neck growing warm. He was by no means a prude, but it had been quite some time since he'd felt the intimate touch of another what with the Alliance using him as a scapegoat and running and what not. He could feel EOS 10 slowly snaking its arms around him, its claws gliding across his skin.

“What would you like?” the man behind the counter asked, staring at him fervently. His accent was thick, and Akmazian could see he wore no pants. He could see a lot of things that he'd never be able to scrub from his memory.

“Uh...” he said dumbly, pinning his eyes somewhere above the other man's head.

“Levi! How many times have I told you that you need to at least wear underwear? If I can't be on the floor naked, neither can you!”

Akmazian blinked, turning his eyes to the woman beside him. Her hair reminded him vaguely of a Siberian Husky, and was dyed a blinding shade of blue. “Howdy.”

She turned a raised eyebrow to him, throwing a quick smile. “Evening. Enjoying yourself? We don't usually serve our alcohol with a side of trauma. First drink is on the house.” She turned back to the other man. “Did you hear that, Levi? First drink is free for him because you can't keep your pants on! Make him your signature! And can you get me something to bite this edge before I bite someone instead. Hurry, Ry's about to come out!” A dazzling smile returned his way. “Do you like fruity drinks?”

“I don't mind them, ma'am.”

“Good, this is Levi's best. Name's Jane, yours?”

The question threw him. How long had he been traveling again? How long had it been since he'd talked to another human? How long had it been since someone had asked him for his name? He couldn't rightly give his proper name or his alias, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Robin.”

“Like Robin Hood? Stole from the rich, gave to the poor? Is that why the cloak is a thing?”

“Exactly.”

“Nice,” she said, nodding, sliding her eyes over him again, “but not really the club and brothel kind of look. Aren't you hot in that?”

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Sweltering, actually.”

“Then take it off! That's what this place is all about! Here, let me take it. Levi will keep it behind the bar, **won't you Levi**?” Pulling the cloak from his shoulder before he could protest, she jumped the counter, stashing it beneath the bar. “So, Robin, you're new around here. What brought you to EOS 10? Did you come for the music? The booze? The escape? The women? The **men**? Stop by for a piss break on your trip across the solar system? Most people don't just stumble across this place for the shits and giggles of it.”

Akmazian worked his jaw, eyes turned out towards the crowd again. “I came looking for a job actually. I hear you guys accept people as long as they have a marketable skill.” He smiled charmingly, returning her the rise of her brow.

“Oh, yeah? You remember what this place it, right? There may be a day when someone requests you to keep them company in their bed. We don't refuse patrons because we like to piss off the Alliance as much as we can, and we need them to keep us running. All of us have been taken to bed at one time or another. Even Levi.”

“I know that, but I'm not in a good standing with the Alliance and this is one of the few places its influence no longer reaches, not really. I'm very good at... procuring items.” Levi set a vividly pink martini glass before him, a small cut of strawberry stuck into the rim. He sniffed at it experimentally. “It smells like mint and strawberries.”

“I call it 'Dalias Defier' after Mist-”

Jane cut him off quickly. “So, you're just trying to use us, huh?” She laughed as his mouth popped open to protest. “Well, we'll see. I'll talk to the boss. For now, enjoy the show. He's about to come out.” She dragged her eyes more languidly down him, resting on the blush creeping up from beneath his collar. “If you want some company before you become a coworker, don't hesitate.” She jumped back over the bar. “I'll be back for you after the show. Enjoy!”

His eyes following after her, he asked, “What was she talking about?”

“You'll see soon. He is our star.”

Levi pulled on a plum vest that matched the large plum and gold pants that he'd pulled on. They cinched at his waist and ankles, providing plenty of room for things to move freely. “I apologize for this, but I would move your drink.

Sliding his drink from the bar, Akmazian watched in growing confusion as Levi mounted the bar, standing with his heels pressed together and hands clutched behind his back. He reached up, fastening a long, gold earring to an earlobe. “Enjoy the show.”

The floor was plunged into pitch darkness, the music silenced. Cheers rang through the room. Spot lights, glaringly white, groaned on. One focused on Levi, and the other focused on Jane on the other side of the room.

Levi began, “Good evening! Welcome to EOS 10 where your desires are fulfilled-”

“And your appetites sated!” Jane continued, “The night has only just begun-”

“And we have a very special performance for you all tonight!”

“Give a warm round of applause to Ryan and his Diamond Dogs!”

The crowd roared as the spot lights blinked out, cheering as a frosty blue light illuminated the back of a man standing on the railing of the fourth floor of the Promenade. Akmazian could feel his breath leave him as the man turned to face the crowd on the swell of his first words.

He wore black trousers that hugged his ass in the best way possible. His vest, buttoned over his bare abdomen, glimmered as if covered in diamonds. His skin shone with a dusting of glitter. His hair was nearly black in the light. 'The French... are glad to die for love.' He wrapped his leg around a cable, slipping his foot into a loop as he pushed off from the railing, leaning as he began to turn.

The cheers were deafening.

Beside him, Levi dropped back behind the bar. He couldn't keep his eyes off the other man as he whispered, “Who is that?”

“That is Mr. Dalias. He's our best performer. He's our most sought after. He's our most expensive.”

The light changed from blue to white, and suddenly, Ryan Dalias wore pants that were a defying shade of pink, though the dyed fabric could barely hold a candle to his pink hair.

“He's... beautiful...” Akmazian coughed, taking a long drink from his martini glass. Strawberry and mint splashed across his tongue, and warmth spread from his stomach out passed his toes. Levi had gotten the shade of pink nearly identical to that of the man's hair, but it was just a shade less vibrant. He was positive there was no shade of pink that exactly matched Ryan's hair in the universe.

A sharp dart of desire speared him through the middle. He watched in speechless awe as Ryan was slowly lowered towards the dance floor, his smooth voice filling the Promenade's every corner. Though his voice was slightly monotone, his beauty well made up for it. He was entrancing.

Akmazian was sure he'd never meet a man as beautiful ever again. He could feel himself falling hard and fast.

This was the voice that woke him every night. Now that he'd seen the man that accompanied the voice, his desire to know him was just as strong, if not stronger.

As Ryan disappeared into the awaiting hands of his admirers, Akmazian spun to face Levi, watching him clean the bar vigorously. “I want to perform. How do I become his performance partner?”

Before Levi could answer, Jane was beside him again, taking a long pull from a flask that she quickly tucked back into the folds of her dress. “Oh, you're gay.” She sighed, but a sharp smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, calculating and mischievous. “You want to perform with him? Are you sure that's all you want to do?” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “He's never done a partner performance before. He's a drama queen when it comes to his contract. He has very strict guidelines. Partner performances were out of the question. Especially partner performances with men. Not that many people want to do partner performances with him. Ryan's a good guy, but he's nicer to look at, and he doesn't play nice when it comes to his work.”

Akmazian deflated, sighing heavily as he turned back towards the dance floor, catching glimpses of the pink haired man as the crowd raised him above their heads over and over. “That's unfortunate.”

“Buuuuut,” she continued, “He might change his mind. He did, after all, get Dr. Urvidian to start rehab. Possibly, you can convince him to partner performances with that pretty face of yours, but you'll have to be **very** persuasive.” Those eyebrows again. “His mind isn't easily changed, but you might be just his type. Maybe you'll be his gateway, like a gateway drug.”

“Do you think that wasn't the best choice of words, Nurse Johns?” Levi interjected, glancing up from his work.

She waved him off. “The boss wants to see you tomorrow, but first, he wants someone else to meet you. Before that though, I want you to meet someone. I've already cleared their schedule for tonight.”

Before Akmazian could open his mouth to respond, Levi had handed Jane his cloak, and she'd started pulling him through the crowd.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Drink,” Ryan ordered, watching him intently as Akmazian raised the glass to his mouth.

Setting it down, he sighed contentedly, a small laugh exiting with his breath. “You know, drinking games don't work out too well when both participants are drinking, but only one is loosing. On the plus side, this doesn't taste like regret yet.” He flipped over a card, crossing his fingers as Ryan reached for his own.

“Drink.”

Akmazian's head dropped. “Damn.” A grin widened his lips, and he tilted his back to catch another mouthful of his drink. His face soured, and his licked at his teeth. “Oh, there's the regret. Found it.”

Ryan burst into laughter as he sat back in the copilot seat, pressing his hands to his cheeks. “Oh god, I hate you. I hate you so incredibly much. My face is hot. How much have we drank? I feel like we've drank a lot. Oh, I haven't laughed this hard in years. My cheeks actually hurt.” His words were fast and just slurred enough that it was audible to Akmazian, but not Ryan himself.

The smile returning to his face, Akmazian leaned towards Ryan, crooning, “You weren't saying that last night.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, leaning forward to grab the bottle off of the control panel. “Yes, I did. I very vehemently told you I hated you.” He held the bottle up to the light, staring at the clear liquid as it sloshed back at forth. “There's like an inch left. This bottle was full an hour ago.”

“It's been five hours,” Akmazian pointed out, “And so was the case of soda, but that's nearly gone too.” Emptying his glass, his shook his head vigorously. “Lord, that's horrible. It's like drinking gasoline. Anyway, you didn't say that until later, but really, you don't hate me.”

“I do, I definitely do.”

“Why?” he asked, pouting.

Ryan laughed again, running his hand down the side of Akmazian's face gently before patting his cheek. “You keep jumping me in the halls. One day, someone is going to stumble over us. We're like a pair of teenagers dry humping each other and making out wherever we possibly can.”

“Yes, and you don't hate me for it. It adds color to the mundanity of day to day life. Come on, if we haven't been caught doing it by now, I don't think we will.”

“You say that now, but the next time you jump me, some little kid is going to run passed and stop dead in his tracks.”

“Jane and Levi have already caught us while looking for their own little place for some nookie. No one is worse than them. They have not stop talking about it, darlin'. Every time I see them, it's an innuendo.”

Ryan shook his head. “It's the same on my end. Every time I walk into the infirmary. But I'm almost positive my mother finding us would be far worse.”

“I've never met your mother, or your father for that matter.”

Pressing his mouth to the top of the bottle he held between his hands, but Akmazian grabbed the bottle as his hands began to shake. “L-lucky for y-you.” His lips trembled, his hands trembled, his world began to tremble. “I... I wish you would have gotten the chance to meet Dad. If he didn't think you were a terrorist, I honestly think he would have thought you were hilarious.” His vision blurred.

Sighing, Akmazian took the bottle, setting it back on the control panel. “We're getting sad now. It's time to stop drinking.” Gently, he tugged at Ryan's wrist, pulling him into his lap. “I don't think your father would have liked me, Ry. Like you said, the whole accused terrorist thing, but also fathers don't generally enjoy their children's boyfriends. I think it's a point of pride for them. They never really have a problem with girlfriends.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he whispered. “Yeah, the one time I brought a boy home, he scared the hell out of him, and he never talked to me again. I didn't talk to him for a week.”

“That's just because he was unworthy. I wouldn't have been scared off so easily, darlin'.”

Ryan laughed, rubbing at the tears on his cheeks. “That's good to know. At least there's one person, but my mother will take up the gauntlet, I'm sure. She's never approved of anyone I've been involved with.”

“I don't think I want to meet your mother. She's hot for Dr. Urvidian, and that's terrifyin'. Not that I would be scared off by her either. No, not at all.” He pressed his forehead to Ryan's as he continued to laugh. “No more tears, darlin'. Your laugh is too lovely for tears. Let's stop drinking for tonight.”

Nodding, Ryan closed the distance between them, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. “I'm ready for bed.”

“Bed? Or _**bed**_?”

Shaking his head, Ryan slapped playfully at Akmazian's chest, pushing himself from his lap. Akmazian kept his hold on Ryan's hips, pulling him back down. “Or we could just stay here,” he murmured against his ear, heat flushing through his body, “We've never done it here before.”

“I'd rather go down to your quarters,” Ryan whispered, his resolve crumbling as Akmazian's hands wandered. “I hate you,” he groaned as he turned to face him.

…..

“Dr. Dalias, I trust your _vacation_ was good. I was sorely disappointed when I had to tell my customer that you'd left for a while. You should have seen his face,” Dr. Osolong crooned as he pushed into Ryan's quarters. “He was _so_ disappointed.”

A man stood behind him, tall, handsome, moneyed, imposing. His eyes ghosted over Ryan, the quirk of his eyebrow the only indication that he felt anything looking at him.

Swallowing, Ryan repressed a shudder. Morpheus grumbled angrily from beneath the bed, releasing a long yowl as the pair stepped further into the room, the door sliding closed behind them. “What do you want Dr... Dr. Osolong?”

“Call me Oslo in such informal surroundings, Ryan.” He dropped a bag onto the side table, unzipping it quickly to rummage through.

Staring at him, Ryan remained silent. His eyes darted between the pair.

At his silence, Dr. Osolong turned to smile, a syringe filled with the same clear pink tinted liquid. “You remember our deal, don't you Dr. Dalias. If you back out, your consequences will be dear, and you won't get those special little tidbits I have for you. So, I'm going to ask you this once more and only once more. What will it be?”

Biting at his lips, Ryan ducked his head, shoulders shrugging up around his ears.

“Good. Sit on the edge of the bed. I'll be giving you the next dose before you two begin.”

Closing his eyes for a long moment, Ryan sat on the edge of the bed reluctantly. An itch burst into life beneath his skin where Osolong had injected him the first time, and it was all he could do to force his hands to remain still.

“Good, good. I like to see that you are intelligent. So much more intelligent than the company of that nurse and cook you keep up with.”

“Don't talk about them like that,” Ryan spat, his head snapping up to glare at Osolong.

Osolong rolled his eyes. “Of course. I forgot they're... friends of yours. How rude of me. Maybe I should use them to test this out on as well, hm? I'm sure they know about your... condition by now. I'm sure they'd love to know the feeling of addition to more than sex. It'll make them understand so much better.”

“No. Leave them alone. You already have me.”

Osolong smiled. “I do indeed. Roll up your sleeve, sweetheart.”

Swallowing down bile, Ryan pushed up his sleeve, turning his face away as Osolong wrapped a rubber band around his upper arm. He slapped at his inner elbow, a smile curling up the corners of his lips. “This one is stronger than the last, and I'll be taking a blood sample before and after for data.”

Ryan repressed a flinch as a needle sunk through his flesh.

“Good, very good. Do you remember this feeling, Dr. Dalias? The feeling of the needle sinking into your arm? The warmth as the drug spread from this very point. Do you remember the fuzzy, reeling high? Do you remember it? Do you yearn for it? Do you miss it? I have to say, it's remarkable that there's no scar tissue.”

“I never did anything with needles,” Ryan lied, voice tight. The rubber band released. “I had a habit for things you could smoke and swallow.” He'd experimented with the hard drugs from the 22nd century from old timers who were still making them when he started out, but when the high hadn't been worth the crash, he'd found something else to adopt. It was only in rehab that he realized they'd been no better.

“Well, you're about to develop a new oral fixation, sweetheart.” The needle was withdrawn and another immediately replaced it, stinging less than the first. Liquid warmth flushed through his veins, and there was no delay as his implant sparked to life. “Oh, you're blushing. Good. It's working then. How do you feel?”

“Murderous,” Ryan snarled.

Osolong clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! He's all yours, Warren. I'll need another blood sample in about... ten minutes, so don't get too into it until then. Or you can, as long as you're willing to stop while I get my sample.” After marking the vial, Osolong deposited it into a small case before turning from the room.

The man looked back at Osolong as the door slid open. “Thank you, doctor. I'll treat him will.”

“All I ask is that you don't physically break him. He is, after all, new to my group.”

“Of course, doctor.” As the door slid closed behind him, the man stepped forward, staring down at Ryan with hunger in his eyes. “Have you ever been with a man?”

“Yes, but unfortunately, all I see is a boy standing in front of me.”

A smile twisted up the corners of his mouth, his lips pulling apart to reveal pointed teeth where blunt ends should have been. “Good thing I'm neither.” The man's hand wrapped around Ryan's throat, roughly shoving him back onto the bed.

…..

“Dr. Dalias, it's so nice to see you again. How are you feeling today? How was the vacation?”

Ryan flinched into Jane's side as Dr. Osolong passed them, smiling invitingly. He remained silent until they'd gotten to the infirmary, staying pressed into Jane's side. He sighed heavily as the infirmary doors slid closed behind them.

“Woah, Ryan, what was that? Are you feeling alright?” Jane asked worriedly, stepping away from his side to grab his shoulders, staring up into his face.

He stared off, refusing to meet her eyes. “I'm fine. Perfectly fine.”

“What was that with Dr. Osolong? Did something happen between the two of you? You're not cheating on Akmazian, are you? Now, I don't like you being in bed with a known terrorist, but I can't and won't condone cheating.”

His stomach churned sickeningly. “It was... nothing. I'm not cheating on Akmazian.” ' _Not willingly_ ,' he thought, pressing a hand to his mouth. “I think I'm going to puke.”

“No no no, don't that that, Ryan!” Jane shouted, taking his arm and dragging him towards the restroom.

…..

“Ryan,” Dr. Urvidian called, tapping on the door gently before letting himself into the restroom. He sighed, locking the door behind himself. Ryan sat against the wall, his head pressed between his knees, his breath coming in quick gasps. “What's going on, Ryan? Jane told me what happened when Dr. Osolong passed by.”

Ryan shook his head, pressing his hands and knees harder of his ears. “Nothing. Nothing happened. I just... I want it to all stop. I want it to all go away,” he whispered. He had no desire to explain to this man what had happened, what was soon to occur again. So, he lied. “I want people to stop looking at me like I'm broken. I want people to stop looking at me and think, 'There goes Admiral Dalias' poor, lost son.' I'm tired of it. It makes me sick. I want to just get on a ship and disappear into space with-” He stopped, choking on Akmazian's name. That was another secret he had no desire to tell this man.

Vomit burned at the back of his throat.

“You just came from one such trip, if I'm not mistaken? Is that really what you want? To leave all of this behind and just float through the empty void with no purpose and no heading.” Ryan couldn't speak, not if he didn't want to throw up again. He bit his lip, peaking up at Dr. Urvidian. “He means something to you, yes, but does this mean nothing to you? Would you be happy with that?”

Closing his eyes for a long moment, Ryan lifted his head, tilting it against the tiles behind his head. “No, I wouldn't,” he told him, clutching his hands together tightly in his lap, “but... I want it to be over.”

Sighing, Dr. Urvidian stood, looking down at him. “I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's only just begun.”

Ryan knocked his head back against the tiles hard, only once. “I know,” he gritted out.

…..

“If this is going to continue, it cannot be in my quarters. It has to be done... somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

“Of course, but on one condition. You come when I call, no matter where you are, no matter what you're doing or who. You are at my beck an call. You submit to my experiments any time of the day. You submit to my clients when I tell you.”

“Fine.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Perched on the edge of a bed covered in lush reds and whites, Akmazian twisted his fingers together. Anxiety coiled in the pit of his stomach. His foot tapped out a fast, inconsistent rhythm.

Pinks and more reds and more whites covered the room he hyperventilated in like some kind of cliché Valentines Day room from the old Earth movies his bisabuela loved. A creature with ears as large as a wall and a long snout that he thought may have been what she called an _elefante_ could be found throughout the room, in the patters on the fabric, in the metal work along the walls, in the shape of the tapestries.

He startled as the door pushed open softly, surprise sending him to his feet, nearly tripping onto his face.

A heavy sigh preceded the individual followed by a bowed head of pink hair and a set of long, toned legs. Ryan Dalias paused as his eyes rose, following the length of Akmazian's legs to the patch of dark skin visible above the collar of his shirt to the pink scars tracing along his throat and up a cheek to finally rest on his eyes, warm and brown and friendly (at least he thought so). Ryan stared at him for a long moment before his whipped out a night stick that Akmazian was by all rights baffled at its appearance. “Who are you? How did you get into my room? If you don't answer my questions in the next minute, I'm going to break your nose and probably more than that,” he threatened, holding the baton in front of his body.

To say that Akmazian's brain shutdown would have been putting it lightly. As such, he reverted to his natural defense mechanism: cockiness. His accent grew unimaginably thick as a lopsided grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I thought that would have been obvious. What does a patron normally come to your rooms for, darlin'? A candle lit dinner?”

Ryan bit back, “I don't have male patrons. Who let you in?”

Akmazian sidled forward, keeping a generous distance between the end of the baton and his person. He much preferred his limbs intact. Pressing a finger to his lips, he feigned thought. “Oh, what was her name again? Average height? Hair like a Siberian Husky, and so blue it hurts to look at?”

“Jane,” Ryan snarled, eyes flickering towards the floor where thick carpet pressed against their feet. His eyes traveled back up Akmazian's body, slower this time, pink beginning to rise in Ryan's cheeks. “I don't service men,” he said as if more to convince himself this time as he reached Akmazian's eyes again.

Akmazian shrugged. “I didn't come here to be serviced, darlin'.”

“You couldn't afford me anyway.”

“True enough. Not with the payments on this blasted arm.” He tapped affectionately at his bionic arm, his smile growing. Truth be told, he'd gotten the arm from a merchant who owed him an expensive favor when the Alliance had taken his good one, and a trusted friend had performed surgery on him to implant it. He owed that friend a debt he was sure he'd never be able to repay.

Ryan's eyes darted towards the arm, his hand jumping up to clutch at the back of his neck. “I didn't notice it at first. Who was the craftsman?”

Akmazian frowned. “I'm not sure.”

“Oh.” They were silent for a few long, awkward moments, Akmazian's cockiness waning with each second that Ryan's eyes were plastered to the dingy metal, head tilted curiously. He nearly flew from his skin as Ryan's eyes snapped back to his, ferocity clouding their kaleidoscope color. “I don't service men. Why did Jane let you in my room?”

Akmazian blinked for a long moment, searching for the words he knew he'd been taught growing up, but everything was in Spanish and he was having a hard time reading the English subtitles, not that they were an accurate representation of his thoughts anyway. Finally, he said, “I'm not lookin' to be serviced, darlin'. I didn't ask to be brought here. I would like to... talk? If you'd be so inclined.”

Ryan laughed, the sound bitter and disbelieving.

The sound sent ice racing through Akmazian's veins.

“Don't tell me you're one of those 'I just want to cuddle and talk' guys. You don't have to lie to me. People only come here for one thing, and it's not to talk. It's your money, but really, you might as well get your money's worth,” Ryan told him, his smile condescending.

Akmazian's frown deepened. “I'm not paying for you, darlin'. I don't pay for my company. I have more self restraint than that. I prefer to woo them into my arms.” The laugh that slipped from Ryan's mouth was more natural this time, though he pressed his lips tightly together immediately after, his eyes narrowing in reproach at himself. “This was all Jane's idea. I didn't come here to take what isn't mine to receive.”

Ryan bit at his lip, carefully lowering his arm and pushing off of the door. “Okay, fine. Let's talk. What do you want to know?”

“What's your name?”

Ryan shot him a disparaging glare as he moved around him and to the folding screen on the other side of the room. He pulled it open, stepping behind it. “I know you haven't been calling me 'darling' this whole time because you don't know what my name is.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

He was quiet for a long moment, only the rustle of clothing filling the overcrowded room. “Ryan Dalias. What's your name?”

“Robin Hood.”

Shoving his head around the edge of the screen, his shoulders bare, Ryan's glare pierced through his physical form straight to the soul hidden beneath. “You're a _putain mentuer_. That's not your real name. That's the name of an Earth legend. What's your real name?” He jerked his head back behind the screen.

Akmazian blinked, taken aback before laughter spilled from his lips. “Okay, okay. My name is Akmazian.”

“...just Akmazian?”

“I lost the right to own my surname just recently. My bisabuela is probably rolling in her grave just from me mentioning that I had one.”

“That sounds like a story that would make me push you out an airlock.”

Akmazian's laughter was more forced, a little sad. “I suppose it would.”

“Then don't tell it to me just yet. Next question.”

“What's your favorite activity?”

Pushing the screen closed, Ryan moved passed Akmazian in a set of lilac scrubs and toward a small table laden with sweets and coffee and teas. He poured himself a cup of coffee, pushing a hand through his hair. “If I told you 'fucking', would you believe me?”

“No,” Akmazain told him decidedly, needing no deliberation.

Ryan thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “Swimming and being in the infirmary. Maybe dancing. Your turn.”

“Stargazing far from any city lights in a rover that likes to prattle and flirting with people far out of my league.” The lopsided grin returned.

Ryan rolled his eyes hard towards the ceiling, eyes skimming over a clock made of gears and a ticking mechanism. He nearly spit out his coffee. “Fuck!” he spat. Dropping his coffee on the table, he shoved his feet into a pair of tennis shoes that were a rainbow of colors. “I'm going to be late. Dr. Urvidian is going to kill me,” he muttered. As he tore the door open, he glanced over his shoulder towards Akmazian. “Stay here or go back to whatever cargo bay you crawled out of, I really don't care. I won't be back for the next six hours at the very least. We'll finish this conversation later. I won't take your money without putting in the time.”

“Okay, darlin',” Akmazian told him even as he was slipping out the door before sighing, “but I'm not paying for your time.”

…..

Akmazian wandered the corridors, learning EOS 10 in a new way as the party died down and guests disappeared into their respective rooms or the respective rooms of some very persuasive performers, coaxed along with sweet kisses and gentle caresses. He turned a corner in time to see Ryan ram his shoulder violently into Jane's, nearly catapulting her across the hall. He scrambled back, peaking around the corner to observe the confrontation.

“What the hell, Ry? That really hurt. Why are you being so mean already?” Jane whined, rubbing at her shoulder, her bottom lip puckered in a pout.

“You know why!” he snapped irately, “You know what grave offense you've committed!”

She batted her lashes innocently up at him. “Enlighten me, I must have forgotten. It has been such a long night, and I had a customer earlier, and it's just been so stressful,” she said, her words ringing false even without the added view of her expression.

“'The boss wants to see you tomorrow. But before that, there's someone he wants you to meet. But before that, you have a customer',” Ryan mocked in a high pitched, grating rendition of Jane's voice. " ** _C’est des conneries_** **!** You know I don't service men! You know that for a fact, you frigid _salope_!"

Jane grinned, turning back in the direction they'd been traveling. “You're using a lot of French curses right now, Ry Ry. You must have liked him a lot. Very handsome in a rugged sort of way, isn't he?”

Akmazian could have been mistaken or it could have been a trick of the light or it could have been a trick of his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw color climb up the back of Ryan's neck.

He stammered out a shaky, “Non!” before his speech dissolved into a stream of very angrily emphasized French.

“Ryan, use your English words. You know I only know enough French to get by in the food courts, but I do love listening to you. You sent to slip into the language when you prattle too much, have you noticed?”

“Shut up!” Ryan finally snapped, following at her side, “What game are you trying to play at? You know it won't work.”

“Honey, I love that you try to pretend that you're as straight as a plank of wood, but you're just a noodle,” Jane told him soothingly, placing an accepting and patronizing hand on his shoulder, “You're not fooling anyone.”

“What's that supposed to mean? What the hell does a noodle and I have in common?”

Jane's smile widened. “You're straight until you get wet.” She took off at a sprint, Ryan giving chase after her.

“ _Ta guele_!”

Akmazian turned in the opposite direction. He wasn't going to follow them, not if it meant having to run, so he returned to his cargo bay, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

…..

“So you want to work here, specifically, you want to perform.” Dr. Urvidian's words were clipped and short with low tolerance, his eyes narrowed in irritation. Ryan leaned against the wall beside the door, sulking. “What do you have that would be useful enough for me to bring you onto our ship? The performances will come once you've proven your worth.”

“I'm very good at... procuring items that are otherwise... restricted or hard to get through normal channels,” Akmazian said, choosing his words slowly and carefully, “And I'm pretty good with engines.”

“Pretty good? What does 'pretty good' even mean?” Dr. Urvidian waved off his question before Akmazian could answer it. “What kind of items can you get? Can you get Ceriliac Ale?”

“No! Becuase you're a recovering alcoholic!” Ryan snapped, jumping into the conversation before it could continue further to slam his hands to the top of the desk Dr. Urvidian sat behind. They glared at each other.

  
“Why must you ruin all of my fun?”

“Because rehab is not fun and neither is relapse! You remember what withdrawl felt like? You want to go through that again?”

“Maybe. Maybe I do. I miss Tom,” Dr. Urvidian spat back petulantly, “He was a great listener, unlike some people.”

“Who the fuck is Tom?”

“The gorilla.”

“Oh for fuck's sake! You named the monkey?”

“Gorilla, not monkey.”

“Same difference,” Ryan snarled.

Laughter burst from Akmazian's chest, and the pair shot him eerily identical glares. “Sorry,” he muttered, pressing his lips together thought he couldn't help the smile on his mouth.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ryan stood straight, shaking his head. He lowered his hand after a moment. “Could you... could you get textbooks?”

Akmazian frowned. “For what?”

“Medicine mostly, but anything else you can scrounge up too. There's a lot of us who want to... continue their education... maybe make a life for themselves that doesn't include selling themselves to pay off debts. Some that were well earned, but debts none the less.” He gripped the back of his neck, staring at the desk top.

Dr. Urvidian fell silent, staring at his hands.

“No, that... I can do that. That will be simple.”

“Fine, you're hired on for a probationary period. You'll work the floor with Jane and Levi for the next few nights, get them whatever they may need. After that, we'll discuss performances,” Dr. Urvidian stated curtly, turning and standing, “Now, both of you, out. I'm meeting a potential investor. Out! Go make yourselves useful somewhere.” Shoving them form his office, he slammed the door behind them.

Glancing to each other, Akmazian asked, “Do you know who could be investing in EOS 10?”

Ryan shook his head, starting off in the direction of one of the food courts. “No clue, but hopefully, he won't be as useless as that last few.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan heaved, his ribs aching, his abs tightening to the point of pain. He gripped the sides of the trash receptacle, the hard metal edges digging into the creases of his palms. A large, familiarly warm hand pressed against the place between his shoulder blades where all of his tension and stress accumulated into a neat little knot. Shuddering, he bowed his back into the familiar weight.

A knee dropped down beside him, careful fingers wiping at the bangs plastered to his forehead. “Ryan, are you alright?” The deep thrum of Akmazian's voice rumbled in his chest. “Jesus, dalin', what happened? What's the matter?”

“Nothing. 'm fine. Just a little sick,” he coughed out in return, heaving again.

“Yes, I can see that.” Serious and strained with worry, all pretense of sarcasm and flirtatious nonsense was gone from his voice. “Why are you so sick? Jane said that nothing has helped. What do you need me to get for you?”

Ryan's shake of his head was a small jerky movement that sent his head reeling. “You shouldn't be here. Get out of here before someone sees you.”

“Plenty of people have seen me already, Doctor, but remember the cloak? It still hides my identity 'sides how much of a nonbeliever you are.” Ryan smiled, but it felt wrong, tight and strained and ugly. “Ah, see, made you smile. Now let's get you out of here. Dr. Urvidian's orders.”

This time when Ryan shook his head it was a full shake, and vertigo swept over him. Slick warmth welled along his palms where metal bit into soft skin. “I can't. My patients- waiting for me-”

“You're trying to puke up an organ, and you're worried about you patients? Not even about the rumors that are going start when you're seen being stolen away by a tall, dark and handsome stranger?” Akmazian asked teasingly, forced calm obvious on his lips.

“I'm not going to let you see anyone if you're just going to get them more sick than they already are, Dr. Dalias,” Dr. Urvidian told him curtly, lowering himself to Ryan's other side, “If we thought we could help you here, I would keep you in the infirmary.” Ryan shook his head violently despite how he was nearly knocked onto his ass. “Exactly my sentiments. Nothing is working, and if it turns out that what you have is contagious, we'll bring you back immediately.”

“Don't bring me back.” He turned dulled eyes to Dr. Urvidian. “ **Don't bring me back**. I'll come back when it's over.” Turning back to the trash receptacle, bile and saliva slipped from his lips. A blanket fell over his shoulders, soft and weighted.

Dr. Urvidian and Akmazian stood. Gently, Akmazian bundled Ryan into his arms, swiping his legs out from under him, cradling him against his chest. Ryan pressed his head against his broad shoulder, allowing himself to settle into the comforting hold of familiar arms. His stomach settled along with him just the slightest amount.

A plastic baggie landed in his hands. “Don't puke on him, Ryan,” Jane told him quietly, a trembling smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, “Just think of how embarrassing that would be!”

“Be careful when you're going back. You know the routes out of sight. Levi is waiting as lookout for those that are more populated. It's sleeping hours currently, so there won't be as many eyes, but just pay attention. His quarters would be the best place to take him,” Dr. Urvidian instructed.

Mind jumping to the evidence that spattered his sheets from Osolong's latest visit, Ryan bit out, “Not my quarters. I can't... Not my quarters. Please.”

Jane's eyebrows pulled together, but Dr. Urvidian shot her a glare. She pressed her lips together, and he nodded. “I'll be down in a few hours to check on him.”

“And if he gets worse?”

“You have a way to contact any of us. The key word will be...” Dr. Urvidian glanced over Ryan, considering. “The key word will be 'UAS Cleo'.”

Ryan laughed bitterly. “I hate you. Why would you use that as-” He pressed a hand over his mouth, groaning quietly.

“See you in a few hours. Get better, Ryan,” Jane told him, her eyebrows still pulled together.

…..

Ryan had stopped puking more than an hour ago, but the trembling that had begun the hour before had only grown in intensity. Curling into the smallest shape he could manage, he clutched at the arm Akmazian had wrapped across his chest. Tears slipped silently over the bridge of his nose and down his temple.

Akmazian hummed a song taught to him by his bisabuela quietly, the reverberations flowing through his chest and across Ryan's back. “Ryan, are you sure you're alright?” Akmazian asked tentatively, running his fingers through Ryan's hair.

Ryan nodded. “I'll be fine,” he whispered, clutching at his arm just a little tighter. “I just... ate something... not good for humans.”

“Ryan, believe me, I know what food poisoning is like. My Papá couldn't cook for shit. This is not that,” Akmazian said sternly, leaning over Ryan's curled body to stare down at him. “What's going on, Ry? You've been acting strange lately, removed. Did I do something wrong?”

Still trembling, Ryan turned onto his back to stare up at him. “No!” then quieter, “No, you didn't do anything wrong. You've done everything right by me. It's just... there's some things that I have to take care of alone, and I hope that at the end of it, you'll be free, but I can't have help. Only I can do this.”

“Darlin', if it's hurting you, I don't care if it'll set me free, I'd rather you not do it and stay safe,” Akmazian said soothingly, those warm, reassuring brown eyes staring down at him and straight into his soul, “If it's about my freedom, I want to help you with it. You shouldn't have to do anything alone, not for me. It's not worth it if you're getting hurt in the process.

Ryan was quiet for a long moment before he pushed up on his elbows, pressing a chaste kiss to Akmazian's blessedly still lips. “It is to me.”

“Rya-”

“No, you know I'm not going to listen. I'm going to do this, and I'm going to clear your name. End of discussion. Just...” He trailed off, his eyes sliding away from Akmazian's face. “Just tell me you care about me... I need to hear it...”

“Ryan Dalias, you stubborn man,” Akmazian murmured, his voice going soft as he turned Ryan's face back towards his, “You are my everything, darlin'.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Knees wobbling and palms sticky with sweat against his skin, Akmazian dry heaved. Sweat slicked down his spine, pooling in the small of his back. The tight spandex shorts that dropped just above mid thigh were a dark purplish-blue where an hour before they'd been periwinkle. “You're... a... slave driver,” he gasped.

“Well, you're doing better than I would have thought for a guy of your statue,” Ryan told him, a hand clamped over his mouth where a full blown smile was working at his lips.

Head snapping up, he stared at Ryan with mock hurt. “Are you calling me fat? How rude!”

Ryan rolled his eyes, dropping his hand. “Hardly. Have you looked at your abs in a mirror lately? You've been staring into one for the past hour. You could wash clothes on those things.”

“That means you've been looking.” A grin split his face. “What are you saying then?”

Color rising along the back of his neck, Ryan turned back to the music player, fiddling with the playlist as he spoke, “Generally, someone with as much... muscle as you have has a harder time dancing with a pole and doing the majority of the dances we perform here in general. In my experience, they're only good at air humping and lifting partners.”

“You should speak for yourself. Have **you** looked in a mirror lately? I'm not the only one with a lot muscle.”

“I'm going to ignore that comment. As I was saying, you've seen over the past couple of weeks that we have a lot of little eccentricities that make our dancing look more elegant and erotic at the same time.”

The corners of Akmazian's eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Yes, I've noticed.”

“I'm sure you've had to take a lot of bathroom breaks since starting to work for us.”

“Only when your dancing. Well, only after you're done dancing,” Akmazian told him, wiggling his eyebrows, “I wouldn't miss a second of your dances.”

Ryan scoffed. “Don't let this rush to your head. You've still got a long way to go before you're performance ready.” A quick, darkly enticing beat thrummed through the small studio. “If you can flirt, you can dance. Let's go again.” As Akmazian stood straight, Ryan turned towards the large practicing mirror, his hips sliding side to side in a way he could only hope to imitate. “Like I showed you. All of your clothes are already off, so show me your hips.”

As Akmazian only just found the will power to block out the sight of Ryan's ass, Jane crashed through the studio doors. They went still, hands still on their hips, to stare at her. Worry creased Ryan's brow. “Jane, what's the matter? What did Levi do this time?”

“Ryan,” she gasped, bending at the waist to clutch her sides, “Dr. Urvidian needs you right now! That girl is-” She threw herself at a trash receptacle, depositing her lunch into the opening.

Ryan tore from the studio before she could finish, the door slamming shut behind him.

Eyes still focused on the door, Akmazian pressed a hand to Jane's back. “What's going on, Jane? What happened?”

Breathing sharply, Jane hissed, “We've had patients coming through recently-” She gagged, but whatever was left in her stomach remained where it was meant to be. “We've tried everything, but nothing is working, nothing we have on station at least. We've tried to contact the Alliance, but they just dodge our requests for the medication.” She stood shakily, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Black half moons marred the skin beneath her eyes. “We're at our wits end. She just went into critical condition. If she dies, Ryan is going to be devastated. It'll hurt all of us, but he hasn't learned how to view her as just a patient. He gets emotionally invested even though he keeps getting hurt.” Sighing heavily, she leaned back against the door. “He's a great doctor, despite the Alliance refusing him his license, but he's just too emotional.”

She wiped at her forehead, cracking open her eyes. Cocking her head to the side, her eyes ran over his body. “What are you wearing? Or I should say, why aren't you wearing more? Don't get me wrong, the view is grade A, but you'll be wearing more clothes during a performance normally.”

Akmazian glanced down his body. “This is... I had a shirt earlier, but I took it off within the first couple of minutes because the good doctor told me this was practice attire.”

Jane pursed her lips in a way that was obvious she was trying her best not to smile. “Well, if that's what the _good doctor_ said than that **must** be how it's done. I've got to run back to the infirmary. Go get cleaned up, and take a rest. I'm sure if something happens, Ryan's going to want to run you into the ground practicing.”

Akmazian frowned, raising an eyebrows at her. “Why would he do that?”

“Well, the last time we lost a patient, Levi couldn't walk for a week because Ryan pushed him so hard, and not in the good way. Then Ryan ended up not being able to perform for about two weeks.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “He just couldn't stop moving. He didn't sleep. Barely ate. He's pretty neutral on the emotions spectrum, or at least prides himself in not showing a lot of emotion, but when something happens that overwhelms him... it was his way of trying to release everything he was feeling without actually showing it.”

Something in Akmazian's chest squeezed tightly. “Did it work?”

Chuckling, Jane shook her head. “No. He collapsed after getting out of the pool one day, and when he woke up, he completely broke down, physically and mentally. Like I said, he couldn't perform for two weeks. Just...” She paused, her hand on the door handle, her eyes distant. “Robin, if something does start up between you two... just be careful with him. The last time he was involved with someone for anything other than sex, he got really hurt. I don't want that to happen again.”

Akmazian rubbed at his face, sighing deeply. “I don't think that's going to be a problem. He's not interested in me. He's straight, Jane, very unfortunately. I've never seen him look at a man the way he looks at some of the women who come through here. And there have been a lot of stunning men that have come through.” He dropped his hand to his side. “And you don't have to keep calling me Robin. You know my name.”

Snorting, Jane shook her head. “Oh, you two are **so oblivious**.” Smiling with a roll of her eyes, she pushed open the door. “Go get cleaned up, **Robin**. Take a break. You've been making really great progress. And for the record, I like the name 'Robin', and it's faster to say than 'Akmazian'.”

…..

Akmazian paced the cargo bay, his arms crossed over his middle where his abs were beginning to ache with the first signs that his muscles were not used to what he'd just put them through. “If I could just know what the medication was, I could get it in less than a day.” He growled under his breath, pushing his hands into his damp hair. “I just need-”

“Akmazian!” Ryan shoved open the cargo bay doors, barely breathing harshly despite the redness of his cheeks and the sweat slipping down his neck. The clothing he'd been practicing in were soaked through and his body sagged with exhaustion, but his eyes were bright with fire and determination. “I need you to get me something. If we don't get it... she's going to die. I can't let that happen. I promised her I wouldn't let that happen.” His eyes dropped, his voice growing small as he whispered, “She's only sixteen. I can't... let that happen...”

“Okay, let's get going. What am I getting? I don't have medical supplies with me, but I have a contact close that might have what we need.” Akmazian spoke quickly, hoisting himself into the Silent Storm and holding out his hand to help Ryan. When he looked back though, Ryan was staring at the ship with narrowed eyes. “What? Do you want to save that girl or not?”

“I do, but...” Ryan started, taking Akmazian's hand and yelping as he was jerked up into the ship.

“But what?”

“What is this? A pirate ship? How old is this ship? Are we going to blow up while trying to get this?” Ryan followed closely behind him to the cockpit, eyes scanning over every possible surface with unimpressed eyes.

“No,” Akmazian told him, sliding into the pilot's seat and gesturing towards the copilot's seat for him to sit, “She's not pretty, but she's reliable and gets the job done. Now, what am I getting for this girl? How much of it do I need to get?” His voice dropped to a mutter as his fingers flew over the controls. “Dammit, what do I have to barter with? The wildebeest maybe? But I was saving that for... Or the comms unit from the Haphaetus? He's been wanting that for a hot minute.”

“Romynian.”

His hands going still, Akmazian turned to look at Ryan. “Why do you need Romynian? Darlin'... that shit is so illegal, I don't even know if my contact will have **any** , let alone the amount we need. I'm hesitant to even have it in our possession. No wonder the Alliance wouldn't give you the medication. They didn't have anything! Do you know how it's made, darlin'? It's worse than Benzatoin 5.”

“When the disease first set in, we didn't need it. We were asking for some mild antibiotics that they usually hand over without any fuss, but something... something changed. The disease evolved. Romynian is the only thing left for us to try, and if that doesn't work...” He twisted his fingers together tightly in his lap, his eyes focused on the vastness of space opening out before them. “I just hope Dr. Urvidian will be able to manufacture a vaccine in time.”

Running his hand back through his hair, pushing it out of his face, Akmazian sighed heavily. “Darlin', a civilization was literally killed to create that medication. I don't... You're sure there's nothing else?”

“Yes. We don't know what the disease is anymore. It's our last hope.”

They were quiet for a long moment, staring at the stars around them. “Okay, let's save a girl.”

…..

The trade took less time than he'd thought it would, less time than even a normal trade would have. It took a **lot** less time than usual actually. He also only had to trade an old, beat up transistor for the medication. He was **positive** that his generosity had nothing to do with Ryan's tight pair of shorts and shirt. No, his generosity definitely had nothing to do with Ryan and his fine ass. Nothing in the slightest.

Akmazian was going to murder his contact if he so much as mentioned Ryan in passing the next time he came through.

In the copilot seat, Ryan sat silently, cradling the pouch of vials in his lap, staring at it. Fear and hope crowded his features.

Tentatively, Akmazian reached over, clasping his hand and shaking it encouragingly. “We're going to make it, darlin'. You're going to save that girl, and all of the others who are fighting what she has. You should go rest. It's going to be awhile before we get back, and I know you didn't sleep yesterday.”

Not pulling his hand away, he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “How would you know? You sleep like the dead.”

“I don't sleep very long anymore. It's just a thing. Plus, your rack was exactly the way I'd left it when I got up. Come on, doc, you don't really think I'm that stupid do you?”

“I'm not a doctor. Not licensed at least,” he muttered, the hand not wrapped in Akmazian's warm grip reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as he had when they'd first met.

Squeezing his hand before releasing it, Akmazian said, “That's not what everyone tells me. Look, darlin', I've only been here two weeks, but I've heard the same praise from everyone when it comes to you. You've saved a lot of people, your knowledge is unparalleled, next to Dr. Urvidian, and your passion is unmatched, whether you're treating a patient or dancing. If that doesn't say 'doctor' than I don't know what does. You don't need the Alliance to tell you what you are.”

“They tell me I'm a whore, and they're not wrong.”

“You're a doctor, Ryan, and you're good at it.”

Hand and eyes dropping back to the pouch, Ryan was silent for a long moment, chewing at the side of his lip. “Thanks. I think... I think I'll go rest for a little while.”

All of a sudden, he looked increasingly haggard. His shoulders sagged as he stood, pressing the pouch to his chest. The bags beneath his eyes were dark purple, his eyes a pale, muddy grey. He covered his face with a hand, breathing deeply.

Raising an eyebrow, Akmazian mumbled after what felt like an hour, “You didn't fall asleep standing up, did you, darlin'?”

Dropping his hand, Ryan reached for Akmazian's face, hesitating for a split second when he flinched back before cupping his cheek. Akmazian's eyes were pressed tightly closed when he felt soft, warm lips press a feather light kiss to his cheekbone. “Thank you, really. I owe you more than I'll ever be able to repay you.”

He was gone before Akmazian could muster the courage to drag his eyes open.

…..

Akmazian lay awake staring up at the underside of the bunk above him. He'd been there for hours, trying to sleep, still remembering the dusting of a kiss Ryan had gifted him, still remembering how Ryan had sprinted from the confines of the Silent Storm the moment they'd touched down. The warmth and hope Ryan instilled in him still lingered somewhere in the middle of his chest.

He ran a hand down his face, groaning, “Jane was right. I'm so fucking far gone.” He pressed his arm over his eyes, sighing heavily. He sat bolt upright when the door slid open and Ryan stomped into the small compartment. Resentment creased his face, narrowing his kaleidoscope eyes. “Woah, darlin', are you alright? What did I do this time?”

Without responding, Ryan grabbed the back of Akmazian's neck, aggressively crushing their lips together. Teeth clacked and the taste of blood slid across his tongue. He wrapped his fingers into his ponytail, jerking at the strands as he straddled Akmazian's legs and pressed a trembling hand to his chest.

The question was whether he was trembling from anticipation or rage.

The answer was neither.

With all of the will power he possessed, Akmazian pushed Ryan back, breathing harshly. “Ryan, hold on. Slow down, you're going to make my poor Martian heart give out,” he gasped, a hand on Ryan's chest and the other on his thigh, “We need to talk.”

“You don't want this?” Ryan asked, rage trading places with confusion, “I thought- I- Well, you were-” Red bloomed across his neck, coloring his cheeks. “I'll just-”

“No, darlin', I really, really do want this. Believe me, I want this more than you know, but... I don't think you want this,” Akmazian explained, smiling forlornly.

“I do!”

“You don't. At least, I don't think you do, but you being pissed off is not the way to do this. I don't want you to resent me after. So... what happened? Did the girl...” He trailed off, unable to say that word that had always meant so little to him. Ryan shook his head, staring down at his hands. “Then what?”

“I... After I administered the Romynian to her, Dr. Urvidian brought-” His hands tightened into fists, his jaw clenching. “He sold me. Dr. Urvidian sold me to some man, some **Alliance doctor** , and I just- I'm pissed, okay. And if I'm completely honest, I'm a little scared. A lot scared. I'm not an object! I'm not meant to be bought and traded like a goddamn heffer!” His voice dropped, and he muttered, “I don't service men...”

“Why did he do it?”

“We need the sponsors. We always need sponsors, and he told Dr. Urvidian he was going to make me a doctor. His only stipulation was that I become exclusively his. He agreed to it. He fucking agreed to it!”

“And then you came here to...”

Ryan stared at him, rage and resolution mingling in his features. “I'm not going to be forced into someone's bed. I'm not going to be forced to do anything. If I'm in someone's bed, it'll be because I went there willingly. **I'm not a heffer**.”

“I know you're not, Ryan, but I think...” He closed his eyes tightly, allowing himself to absorb the warmth radiating off of Ryan's body, memorizing the weight of him in his lap and the feel of his thigh beneath his hand. He sighed. “I think you need to go calm down, and think about this. You're angry and scared, and probably not thinking straight. On top of that, I don't want to be something you use to prove a point. You don't want to be used, but neither do I. I've been used enough for one lifetime.”

Frowning, Ryan stared at him. “You... you really don't want to do this with me tonight.”

“No.” Akmazian nearly had to force the word out, but it tasted less like a lie on his tongue than he thought it would have, than he was expecting it to.

“Okay then... I'm not leaving though. I know he'll just be waiting there, and I'm not going to do that to myself,” Ryan told him, sliding from his lap to squeeze into the remaining space between his side and the wall, “Do you mind?” He was already settling down, his back to Akmazian.

“Not at all.”

…..

When Ryan returned nearly a week later, his cheek smeared with red lipstick and his eyes hungry, Akmazian didn't deny him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

A folded slip of paper landed on the table beside his plate as a short, fluorescent being slouched passed. Ryan ignored the paper, curling his fingers into tight fists as he kept his eyes trained on Jane and Levi across the table from him. They argued loudly and pointlessly, gesturing wildly so others passing their table in the food court had to swerve around them.

"No, that is absolutely ri-" Jane stopped mid sentence as the being disappeared into the crowd, her eyes darting to follow their movement. "Who was that? I've never seen their species before. Hey, Ryan, do you- They left you something."

Shuffling the paper out of view and into a pocket, he smiled, his lips pulled tight. "Yeah, I don't know, someone new, I guess."

The pair across from him stared at him expectantly, Jane's eyebrows rising as he continued to ignore the weight of the paper in his pocket. "What does it say?" she asked excitedly.

"What does what say?" he asked, stuffing his mouth to capacity so he wouldn't have to respond right away.

Jane rolled her eyes. "The paper. I know that you're not that stupid. I wouldn't think Akmazian would be so shallow as to go for looks over brains."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled through his food, grimacing as the sudden loss of his appetite hit him. He may as well have been eating ashes for all he could taste.

"Okay, maybe you are that stupid," she muttered, "Ryan, we saw you put it in your pocket. What does that note say? **What does the note say?** Is it a secret rendezvous with Akmazian or-” she gasped loudly, "Maybe it's someone else! Dr. Osolong perhaps?"

Ryan flinched at the name, the inside of his elbow itching incessantly. Pain shot through the base of his skull.

"Oh, this is just wonderful! I should make a cake to celebrate!"

Jane whipped her head towards him. "To celebrate cheating? I don't want him to date Akmazian, but no one should ever be cheated on."

"I did not consider that."

The little fluorescent being stood at the entrance furthest from him, staring pointedly at him. They tapped at their wrist slowly.

"Yeah, I noti-"

Ryan jumped to his feet, shuffling his belongings beneath his arm. "I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll be in the infirmary in..." He trailed off, scooping his tray into his arms. As he heard their protests rise, he slipped passed a few people, and inhaled sharply.

He avoided the fluorescent being, taking the exit that would take him the longest to get to the room Oslo had commandeered for these activities and was the quickest way to make it down to Akmazian's cargo bay. Far from the food court in a dark hall, he pressed his back to the wall, unfolding the paper with trembling hands.

.....

"Oh, sweetheart, look at you. You look all used up," Oslo crooned as he dropped down onto the bed beside Ryan, his fingers running up and down his sweat and blood slicked back, "But you can't be done yet. There's still so much more you need to know before your lover's name is cleared. It would be a shame if you were to be broken already. I haven't had nearly enough fun with you."

If he'd possessed any strength, Ryan would have slapped his hand away, but as it were, he was drained, mentally and physically. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going to find the strength to go back to the infirmary.

"Oh, you look mad. Did I hit a nerve?"

Curling his fist into the fabric, Ryan ignored the drag of his nails against the open cuts across his back.

Standing, Oslo went to a table with medical supplies laid out on it. Returning with bandages and disinfectant, he began the long process of cleaning each cut. "No matter, you still have to do as I say. Tell me, how did the drug do this time? I noticed you were disoriented there for a bit, but I couldn't tell if that was from the drug or from your treatment. I would have thought you'd be used to being shoved against walls by your terrorist. Or are you the one who tops usually? I find that a little hard to believe, not with your ass." His hand traveled further down Ryan's back.

Ryan pushed himself away when his hand reached his lower back. "Stop touching me," his hissed, pain clouding his eyes with tears, "Don't talk about Akmazian. He's not a terrorist. You know nothing about him."

"Oh, but I do," Oslo said, crossing his legs at the knees and smiling as he lifted his chin. "I know he's involved with a man who is used and abused by whoever I please. I know he's involved with a man who was a drug addict, and will be broken once more. I know that he fell for a wretch of a doctor. I know that the two of your are pathetic, and therefore, perfect for each other. I know that, no matter how much I tell you, he will still be killed for what he supposedly did."

"Fuck you," Ryan spat. Stumbling from the bed, pain spreading through his body and his legs trembling under his weight, he hobbled towards the showers. "Get out."

"Alright then, I guess you don't want to hear the information I have for you today? I wasn't done cleaning those cute either. We don't want them getting infected, now do we?" he crooned.

"Get out!"

Oslo grinned. As he stood, gathering the supplies on the table, he said over his shoulder, “I have an offer for you. Another, I suppose. It's very simple. You see, I don't like people touching my things, and you are one of my things now, sweetheart. So, this is my proposal. You become mine, and only mine. You stop this thing you have with Akmazian, make him think you hate him. If you do that, the abuse will stop. I'll even stop testing my new drugs on you. I'll make sure his name is cleared. All you have to do is be mine.” His voice was cheery, almost corgial.

“Get. Out.”

The smile remained in place. “As the prince commands.” With a bow, he left the room.

The tears came unbidden, and Ryan allowed himself to sit on the floor of the shower for a long time before finally finding the strength to get back up. He was going to have his information. Akmazian would not die for what the Alliance did to him, and Ryan would make sure of that, no matter what he had to do. Even if, in the end, it killed him.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Do you know where Ryan is?" Akmazian stood in the infirmary, leaning on the front desk. He grinned widely, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Jane raised an eyebrow at him, a grin tugging at the corners of her exhausted mouth. "Why are you smiling like that? Why are you looking for Ryan?"

"We have practice today."

"Oh," she hummed, drawing out the single syllable, "You know, Ryan came in complaining about his lower back. You wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

Akmazian could only smile wider, shrugging his shoulders towards his ears. "I have no idea what you're talking about. We haven't seen each other since yesterday morning. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said slowly, examining her short fingernails, "Maybe because he also came in with a pep in his step, like he actually got off last night. It's a very rare sight, and I haven't seen it in awhile."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Jane," Akmazian said, his grin turning into a full blown smile, "Do you know where the good doctor could be?"

Her eyebrows rose another fraction of an inch, her smile turning to one of knowing. "Sure you don't." It fell away with her sigh as she rubbed at her eyes. Dark bags colored the skin beneath them. "I think he's working out. By the time he left, the pep was gone. It's been a pretty rough day for all of us. We're still trying to figure out the source of whatever has been sweeping through the station, but it's hard. It's not a virus or an infection or a disease. It's like we've never seen anything like it. Actually, we have never seen anything like it. It's just... it's hard. Seeing all of those teenagers and new adults getting this sick... it's the hardest for him. Everyone has something that's really hard for them. Ryan's is young adults. Dr. Urvidian's is old women. Mine is little girls. Everyone has something that's... really hard for them."

Akmazian frowned, staring down at the top of the desk. "Do you think... do you think it could be drug related? Young adults, it's something a lot of them do, especially working here I can imagine. Or having parents that work here. And it's something that could get around to a lot of unrelated people."

Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? Do you know something? Do you have something to do with this?" Her voice turned low, threatening, an accusation lurking at the back of her throat. "We all know you sell drugs out of your cargo bay."

Akmazian shook his head quickly. "I really haven't had time to go to my supplier in recent weeks. My customers have had to find other ways of getting their fix. The last batch I distributed was more than three weeks ago. If it's drug related, I'm not the one giving out the bad drugs."

"Good, or I would have had to kill you and tell Ryan you accidentally got flushed out an airlock," Jane said, reaching blindly for a cup on her desk. She groaned when it came up dry. "I need to get more coffee. I would check for Ryan at the pool or in the studio. Those are his go to when he's stressing." She moved around the desk, brushing passed him.

"Wait, Jane," Akmazian called, waiting until she turned back to look at him with an arched eyebrow to continue, "Why would you lie to him?"

Her eyebrow only rose higher. "Are you stupid or just dense?"

"I-"

"If I told Ryan that you were the one causing this, I think he'd shatter. I don't know if you've noticed, but he's absolutely head over heels for you. Even if you were at fault, I wouldn't want him to get hurt." Shuffling her hand through her hair, she shook her head. "Go find him. Make sure he's not running himself into the ground, alright?" She turned before he could reply, disappearing into the corridor.

Akmazian pulled absently at his ponytail. "Fuck..."

.....

Akmazian found Ryan in the studio. He stood outside the doors for several long moments, staring in through the glass, transfixed by his movements, the stretch of the scar running along his spine, the arch of his back as he bent backwards. Shaking his head to clear the haze, he pushed into the room, clearing his throat. "Ryan, Jane told me you might... be here. Are you... are you alright, darlin'?"

Ryan stilled, his arms falling to his sides, his shoulders sagging. Sweat slipped down his back, along his neck. "Yeah. Fine," he muttered, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

Stepping forward, Akmazian pressed a hand to the back of his neck, moving around to face him. His face was blank, but his eyes wore every emotion that raged through him. "You don't look like it. Do you want to talk about it? I may not be as good of a listener as Morpheus, but I try."

"I'm fine," Ryan said more sternly, shrugging out from beneath his hand and moving towards the docking port, "Go get ready for tonight or whatever you were doing before."

Akmazian stared at his back for a long moment, his eyes still tracing the scar before sighing. "I didn't know you knew ballet. How long have you danced? Was it always a hobby?"

"No," Ryan muttered, his shoulder hunching forward, his hands going still, "I started dancing when I was nineteen. It... didn't start out as a hobby. It was necessity, and now it's habit."

Despite the sweat slicking down his skin, Akmazian wrapped his arms around his waist. "Necessity?"

Ryan leaned back into his hold, his shoulder dropping forward. "Yeah, necessity. I was in a bad... accident. It was... my way of regaining mobility. I started ballet to regain control of my muscles, and I started swimming to regain my strength. I was still having trouble with my new spine. I could never get it to do exactly what I wanted."

"Is that where this scar came from? The one on you back?"

Ryan nodded, wrapping a hand over Akmazian's wrist. "We went to Continuum Falls, a group of friends from the Academy and me. We were drinking, maybe a little high. I was the first to jump... and the last. My spine was obliterated." His shook his head, leaning it back against Akmazian's shoulder. "You never really understand something until it happens to you. Addiction was like a myth. I understood it in an academic sense, I knew it was real, but just like everyone else, I didn't understand why addicts couldn't just break the habit. I was never much of a drinker, smoking was never my thing, drugs made my mind foggy for days after. I never thought it would happen to me until it did." He stepped out of the circle of Akmazian's arms, walking slowly back and forth along the wall of mirrors. "I woke up out of a coma in more pain than I could have ever feasibly imagined.

"I was paralyzed for months, you know? I only started walking after six. I was terrified that I'd never be able to move again. I hated the physical therapy the most. Every day at exactly 1517 because the nurse was always running a little late. 'You just have to give it time.' I hated those words, still do. I was always in pain, always. They released me and gave me drugs to help with the pain, and when they ran out... well, you can imagine my panic. I would do anything to get my fix, to dull the pain even if only to a manageable level. It's how I eventually ended up here because I was so used to selling myself by the time I got here."

Ryan ran an agitated hand back through his hair, gripping it at the roots. "I went to rehab and the Academy decided to deny me my doctor's license when I relapsed. Rehab stuck the second time around, but it's still there, that nibbling urge, that bite. They don't tell you that when you learn about addiction. They tell you it stays with you throughout your life, but they never tell you just how close it always is." Pressing a hand to his mouth, he spoke through his fingers. "Those kids will always be damaged. They'll always be craving that next high, they'll always be afraid of that little voice in the back of their head. Fifteen years later and I still hear it, still miss the high sometimes. Now they're... and I can't save them...

"The others don't recognize it, but those kids have all the symptoms of withdrawal mixed with something worse. It's like they're bodies are literally breaking down without that drug to keep them going, and I can't... I can't do anything... I just-"

Akmazian pulled Ryan into his arms, pressing his face against his chest with a hand on the back of his head, carding his fingers through his hair. "Darlin', it's fine. You don't need to explain it to me. Breath, darlin', breath."

"I can't just let them die, but there's nothing I can do, and the Romynian isn't going to last forever. One day we're going to run out, and then they're going to begin dying. I can't let that happen," Ryan whispered, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"Darlin', you take care of the kids in the infirmary. I'll do what I can out here to find out who's distributing the bad drugs, alright? Those kids are going to be fine, one way or another.”

“Okay,” Ryan whispered, pressing close.

…..

Akmazian slammed a man against a wall, his forearm pressed against his windpipe as he smiled. His voice was conversational as he asked, “Who is it, Frank? I know you've found a new supplier. I can smell it all over you. That's not what my drugs smell like.”

The man spluttered, tugging uselessly at his arm. He was pink in the face, his bright blue tongue darting out to lick at his lips, his pupils blown wide. “I don't know, man! H-he just showed up a few weeks ago, seen him wandering around the station ever since. Don't know what he does. Sometimes see him in scrubs. I don't know. I don't know.”

“Frank,” Akmazian said in a singsong voice, pressing their faces closer despite the overwhelming sent of drugs, booze, and vomit that wafted off the man's breath, “I need a name. I know you know it. That was the deal, Frank. You give me a name, I give you the last of what I have. If not, I take a finger or three, or maybe the entire fuckin' arm. You're choice.”

“Fine, fine!” he shouted, digging his fingers into Akmazian's wrist, “His drugs are shit anyway. Gettin' people real sick around here. Stopped takin' 'em after the first couple dropped.”

“Stop babblin'. All I want is a name.”

“Oslo, that's what he goes by. Tall guy, good looking, hard to miss. Wears scrubs. Think he works in the infirmary with your squeeze and that hot nurse. People real angry around here that you monopolized the main attraction.”

Glaring at the man, Akmazian gripped one of his fingers firmly. “You should have stopped talking after the name,” he growled, cleanly snapping his finger in half. He pulled his arm back, letting the man drop to the floor as he screamed. “Learn to make a goddamn sentence, and stop screaming. Here's your drugs.” He threw the drugs into the man's lap as he stomped off in the direction of the infirmary.

…..

“Ryan,” Akmazian said as he pushed into the infirmary, spotting the man before the doors had even opened all the way, “I need to talk to you about something.”

Glancing over his shoulder, his hands going still, Ryan muttered, “Oh yeah, uh, sure. Just give me a second.”

“Ryan, Akmazian, both of you. In my office. Now!” Dr. Urvidian retracted his head from his office door, disappearing back into the room.

Muttering under his breath, Ryan turned to go to the office, but Akmazian pulled him to a stop, eyes pleading. “Ryan, this can't wait. I need to-”

“Now! I won't say it for a second time!”

Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, Ryan whispered, “After. This will be quick, I'm sure.” Hand still gripping his shoulder, he steered the two of them into the office, the door sliding closed quietly behind them. Ryan sat, Akmazian perching anxiously on the arm of his chair.

Before either could speak, Dr. Urvidian broke the silence. “The two of you are doing a partner dance. I want that tango you were working on, Ryan.”

“What?” the pair shouted in unison.

Akmazian was speechless, elation blooming in his chest, dampened only by the anxiety still ripping at his lungs. “But I've only done three solo performances so far. All of them this week.”

Ryan was angrier, his mouth dropping into a deep scowl. “And if you've forgotten, my contract explicitly states 'No Partner Performances'. It's written in bold caps so your old ass eyes can't miss it. I can't do it, and you know why.”

Leveling an irritated glare at the pair, his jaw clenched. “Yes, Ryan, I understand that, but I'm not the one deciding this. If you have a problem, take it up with Dr. Osolong. He owns your contract. It's not my decision anymore. And you,” he pointed a finger at Akmazian, “Your performances have been a hit so far, but they'd rather see you with a partner, and so would Dr. Osolong. So start practicing. Your performance is in three days.”

“Three days?” Ryan cried, jumping to his feet and taking a step towards Dr. Urvidian, but Akmazian wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him in place. “That's barely enough time to even learn the steps. And since when has a bought contract ever nullified the bold print?”

Sighing, Dr. Urvidian sat back, rubbing at his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of a hand. “This is what he wants since you won't sleep with him. Ryan, **he bought your contract** , he bought you exclusively. You're an escort, for fuck's sake. This is your job, and you're not doing it,” he growled sternly, “He is getting us the supplies we need, the medications and antidotes the Alliance has started to refuse us. It was the one thing he asked for. If you won't do your job, you will do this partner performance.” He stared at Akmazian's arm still wrapped firmly around Ryan's waist and the fingers he'd carded through Akmazian's, gripping tightly. “And you will keep whatever... this is in private.”

Snarling, Ryan ripped Akmazian's arm from across his abdomen, shooting forward to slam his hands against the desk top while Akmazian shot forward to hold him still again. He was vibrating, nearly hissing like a wet cat. “Where is he? I am not going to be thrown around like a rag doll. I've had enough of that. He may have bought me, but that doesn't make me his bitch. So, where is he?”

Narrowing his eyes, Dr. Urvidian growled back, “Food court. Lunch.”

Stand back, Ryan marched towards the door, punching at the control panel to open the door. Before he disappeared, he snarled, “And don't use pretty words. Why don't you just call me what I am; a fucking whore.”

“Ryan-” Akmazian started, but the slam of Ryan's fist into the wall outside cut him off. He glared back at Dr. Urvidian. “What is so wrong with partner performances? What is everyone hiding from me?”

“Ask him yourself,” Dr. Urvidian snapped back, glaring at the cup of coffee sitting on his desk, “Whatever the two of you are doing, keep it to your cargo bay. Now get out.”

Glaring at him for a moment longer, Akmazian left, punching into the dent outside as hard as Ryan's had. His hissed, and continued out of the infirmary.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Where's Oslo?” Ryan spat, storming into the Infirmary like a man on a mission, fire in his most often docile eyes. A scowl turned down his lips as he glared at Jane with more malice than she'd ever been subjected to. His hair still dripped with water, his scrubs dotted with moisture from his shower.

Scooting her chair back as far as she could manage without impeding the flow of traffic, she stared up at him. Confusion clouded her features as she asked, “Who's Oslo? Should I know him? And where have you been? Dr. Urvidian's been looking for you everywhere. You've been gone for hours! He's pissed!”

Spitting out a filthy French expletive that had that hairs along Jane's arms standing on end, he rubbed at his forehead. “No, fuck, I meant Dr. Osolong. Have you seen Dr. Osolong around? He's supposed to be on call right now, right? Where is he?” His words were as harsh as the expletive, his eyes scanning over the Infirmary quickly. “ _Pinche cabr_ _ó_ _n_! Jane, where is he?”

Eyebrows shooting towards her hairline, Jane rounded the desk cautiously, grabbing his arm gently. She dragged him towards a less populated area, staring at him. “Okay, I'm no connoiseur of languages, but I just heard you curse in three languages in the last minute. I'd say you've been spending too much time with Akmazian, but even though I'm a little hesitant to say, I think he's a good influence on you. You're cussing is spot on. But really, what's going on, Ryan?”

“Nothing, I just need to know where Dr. Osolong is. We have some things to discuss,” he bit out, eyes roaming once more. They were everywhere, but focused on the conversation she was trying to initiate.

“He's getting dinner in Food Court Delta. Really, Ryan, **what's going on**? Is this about the note from earlier? Is everything alright? You can tell me what happened,” Jane told him, her grip growing bruising as he turned to bolt from the Infirmary, “Ryan, slow down. What's going on? Did something happen with Akmazian and Dr. Osolong?”

“No!” Ryan snapped, jerking his arm out of her grip, “Stay out of it, Jane. You'll be better off not knowing.”

“Wait! Ryan!” she called after him, but he was already down the corridor, her eyes following him around a bend.

…..

Ryan landed in the seat across from Oslo with the screech of metal against metal, and the clatter of Osolong's fork as it slid off the side of his plate. A snarl curled his mouth into something ugly as the man across from him raised an eyebrow. Rage coursed through his body, and he trembled with the effort to hold himself back from smashing a fist into his handsome nose.

“Oh, what a nice surprise,” Oslo said, smiling widely as he leaned back in his chair, folding his napkin into a tight, neat square to place beside his plate. “You don't look so good. A little pale, but red around the cheeks. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. But I do have to ask, how's your back? It looked a little raw the last time I saw it.”

“Shut up, Oslo. Stop playing games.”

Osolong spread his hands wide, placating as he continued to smile. “No games here, Dr. Dalias. Just you and me and my meal. What can I do you on this fine day?”

Gritting his teeth, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, he said, “I'll do it.”

Pausing, Osolong tilted his head slowly, considering as he watched Ryan intently. “Do what? You're going to have to be more specific than that. I get that a lot most days. Such as this meal made specially by your cook. He is quite the cook, isn't he?”

“ _Saucier_ ,” Ryan corrected venomously, “And you know what.” His hands curled into fists on the table top, nails digging red crescents into his palms. “I'll do it, but on one condition.”

“You're not in a place to be making demands, sweetheart.”

“ _I'll do it on one condition_ ,” Ryan reiterated.

Folding his hands beneath his chin, elbows resting on his knees, Oslo asked, “And what's that?”

“You clear his name. Now. I will not do anything with you, for you, until you clear his name. When that's done... then you can have me in whatever fashion you want.”

Tapping his fingers against his lips, Dr. Osolong stared at the ceiling. “And how is that beneficial to me? You won't do anything for me? So, no more clients, no more drug testing, and still not getting anything in return. That's not really in my best interest, now is it?”

“You'll have me. That's what you want, right? That's what I'm offering, but not until you pull through. I can't - _won't_ \- be a play thing unless he's safe.”

Cruelty twisted as Oslo's smile. “Oh, but sweetheart, you already are a play thing.” His smile turned sweet again as he turned it up to a pair of passing nurses. When they were out of sight, he leaned forward on his elbows. “Alright. Fine, but I get to continue drug trials on you until the day he's not wanted. It should only take a few weeks, maybe less, but that's all I need to complete the formula.”

Dread mixing sickly with relief settled in the pit of his stomach, a toxic mix that roiled in the emptiness. “Fine, if that's what it takes.”

“Oh, I can't forget the second part. I'm going to need you to stop all relations with him. Make him think you hate him. Make him believe whatever you felt for each other was _fake_ , that you were using him. Make him hate even being in the same station as you. I'm sure you can do that. You've been acting this whole time. What have you been telling him about your back and the bruises and the bites and your... looseness? Hm? Tell me what he's asked you.”

Standing quickly, Ryan hissed. “You'll have what you want. Clear his name.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Akmazian cursed under his breath, stumbling through the step sequence Ryan had laid out for him and tripped over his own feet to land hard on his ass. Ryan stared down at him, smiling gently as he held out a hand to pull him back to his feet. “Fuck, I'm never goin' to get this. We have to perform in, what? A week? Dammit.” As Ryan pulled him to his feet, he pressed close, propping his chin on his shoulder and sighing into the slick skin of the crook of his neck. “I'm sorry that your great teachings are wasted on a lowlife like myself.”

Pulling away, Ryan glanced towards the doors. “Don't worry. You'll get it. This is a hard step sequence even for a professional, and you're doing remarkably well for only starting to dance a few weeks ago. You'll do great.” Voice distant, eyes far off as he turned from his embrace, he walked back to the docking port. “Okay, let's go again from-”

Cutting him off quickly as he stepped towards him, Akmazian asked, “Are you feelin' alright?” He gently slid an arm around his waist, frowning as Ryan went rigid against his chest. “You've been actin' strange lately. You... You never told me what you and that Dr. Osolong fellow talked about.” A memory skittered forward, his fist slamming into a nose, the breaking of a finger, a name. He still hadn't told Ryan, but after Dr. Urvidian's order, he hadn't found the perfect moment.

Maybe Ryan already knew though. Maybe Oslo had gotten to him before he had. Ice ran through his veins at the mere thought.

Sliding away from him again, he migrated back to the center of the studio. “It was nothing. Just business stuff, you know.” His voice had gone lighthearted and bright, but beneath it lay something that had the cold spreading more readily through his body. “Let's go from the part that you're supposed to throw me to Levi.”

“Ryan,” Akmazian started, turning to face him. They stared at each other in the wall of mirrors, something like regret plucking at Ryan's features before he turned to him, his mouth returned to a neutral line.

“It was nothing. Drop it.” Voice flat and hard, it was all Akmazian could do not to flinch back, but he planted his feet, and stared the smaller man down. It was an attempt worthy of the gods.

“I know when you're not tellin' me everything, Ry, and I know when somethin' isn't nothin'. Whatever you two talked about, it wasn't nothin'. It got to you. It's under your skin.”

“How would you know? You haven't even known me for six months. You don't know anything about me.”

This time, Akmazian did flinch, his feet flattering. Something cold and sharp and serrated pierced him through the middle. He stared back, hurt making it's home on his face, and immediately, he recognized the regret that fanned across Ryan's features.

“Ak-”

“No,” Akmazian cut him off, voice just as flat and hard as Ryan's had been a moment before, “You don't want to tell me, fine, but don't act like you're alright when you're clearly not. I may have only met you a few months ago, but I have eyes and I have ears, and you don't get far in my profession unless you learn to read people quickly. I know you, Ryan, whether you'd like to admit it or not. If you don't want me to know about it, that's fine. I won't ask again, but if we're goin' to continue this relationship, then you're goin' to have to start trusting me at some point. That's how a relationship works, how partners treat each other. I get it, I'm a smuggler. We're not the most trustworthy of people, but, I'm never goin' to hurt you, Ryan, or betray your trust.”

“I do trust you, Ak,” Ryan said quickly, dropping his eyes guiltily to the floor, “But I don't want to hurt you.”

“And whatever is goin' on is goin' to hurt me?”

“Yes.”

Akmazian stared at him for a long moment before cupping his face. “Tell me, Ryan.”

Inhaling deeply, Ryan's eyes remained on the ground. “I have to sleep with him...”

Blinking sharply, Akmazian was rendered speechless for the space of a heartbeat, the blade in his middle twisting. His mind whirred frantically, trying to understand the words that had slipped from Ryan's lips. It had been a simple sentence. There wasn't much to grasp, and yet, he struggled. “You...” he paused, swallowing, “You don't have to do anythin' you don't want to, Ry. You're your own person. He can't make you do somethin' you don't want to.”

“That's the thing,” Ryan whispered, stepping back out of his reach, his hands falling away, “I'm not. I'm owned, Akmazian, he **owns** me. He bought my contract. That's what it means to be in my line of work, and... I can't believe I'm going to admit this, but Dr. Urvidian was right. I'm not doing my job by refusing him. This is my job. I'm just... I'm just a whore. It's who I am. It's what I do.”

Pulling Ryan back towards him, he dropped his voice to match Ryan's cadence, soft and pliant. “No, you're not. You're a dancer, and a fine good one at that, and you're a doctor, an amazin' one! Nobody can take that from you. No one can tell you that's not what you are. You shouldn't have been able to be bought in the first place. It's not right. That's not how being a person works.”

“You wouldn't understand because this has never been your life,” Ryan snapped, jerking from his grip as anger flared in his voice and kaleidoscope eyes, “You've never had a contract that states your life's purpose. You've never had to sell yourself to make ends meet. It's what I have to do, what I've had to do for more than fifteen years! I can't just tell him no!”

Heat pricked at the Akmazian's eyes, threatening to fall as Ryan stared at him desperately, wanting - **needing** \- him to understand.

Voice dropping, the fight suddenly fled his small body. His shoulders slumped, eyes watery. “It's my job,” he mumbled miserably, “It's who I am. I... I have to sleep with him, and you can't get jealous. If you don't think you can do that, then... then we're going to have to stop. I don't want this to stop. It's the only think that's felt real and good in years, and... and _I don't want it to stop_. Please, please... this is all I ask.”

Akmazian blinked, the tears fell, and to hide them, he pulled Ryan against him. “Okay,” he whispered, voice breaking, knife twisting, “Okay. I can... I can do that for you. I won't get jealous, I promise. I won't. It's fine. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I'm not going anywhere.”

“You can't get jealous. It's my job. You can't get jealous.” Ryan pressed his face into his chest, words hot against his skin.

“I won't. I won't,” he repeated, but he could taste the lie on his lips.

…..

Jane found Akmazian stocking the bar, each slam of a bottle on the shelf harder and harder. Leaning on the bar, she watched him, eyes tracking his movements. “A little irritated?” she asked conversationally, folding her arms over each other. A slam of another bottle was her only answer. Glass screeched against glass, and they scowled in unison. “Alright, enough of that. Dr. Urvidian is looking for you. He wants to have a talk.”

“ _Estupendo, dile que puede irse a la mierda. Pinche cabr_ _ó_ _n._ " He trailed off into muttered Spanish, his words harsh and pointed, though not at Jane.

“Alright, enough of that too. I've been hearing enough Spanish from Ryan. I have absolutely no idea what you two are saying, but I know enough cursing in six languages to know that that wasn't something I want translated. I'm also not going to repeat it to our boss. Now, let's go. Levi will finish up here.”

Akmazian's cursing turned colorful, mixing with the little French he'd learned from Ryan, as he stood, roughly untying the apron he'd wrapped around his waist. It was smeared with grime and stiff with disuse. Balling it up, he threw it into the half empty box. After a long stream of Spanish, he finally muttered, “What does he want?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? I'm not his keeper, nor do I usually care, but seeing as it's you and he looked pretty pissed, I'd say it has something to do with Ryan. Him and Dr. Osolong probably. I do have one question for you before you head off though,” she said, watching as he shoved boxes out of his way. “Oh, hey Levi.”

“Hello, Nurse Johns, Akmazian. What a pleasant surprise.”

“What do you want, Jane?” Akmazian growled, ignoring Levi in favor of nearly kicking over a case of surprisingly expensive booze. He jerked out a bottle, cracking the cap. “I'm not in the mood today.”

“How long have you been fucking Ryan?”

Akmazian choked, barely managing to swallow the mouthful as his nose stung.

Levi glanced between them, finally interested in the conversation. “Do you really think that is wise, Akmazian?”

“What are you two goin' on about?” He rubbed harshly at his nose with the back of his wrist, scowling.

Pushing herself back off the bar, Jane rolled her eyes spectacularly. “Oh come on, you guys are horrible at hiding it. We'd have to be blind not to see it. Even then, I'm pretty sure it'd still be glaringly obvious.” She grabbed the bottle, swallowing deeply as she tipped back. “Damn, that's good. Smooth. Choice.”

“I must repeat, is that wise?”

“What's not wise? Ya'll aren't makin' any sense. Did I lose my understandin' of English at some point?”

“With all of that Spanish you were just spewing? Maybe,” Jane said, grinning widely.

Levi glanced to her before saying, “No, I dare say not. I mean, is it wise to conduct a relationship with someone who sells themselves?”

Eyes narrowing, he glared at the taller man. Slowly, Jane set the bottle down, stepping away from the bar. Her eyes wide, mouth set in a startled line.

Levi continued, unperturbed. “I can't say that I know much about love, but there is not much to do as a bar tender than to watch. I've learned a lot about love, and a lot about lust, and I know one thing in particular.” He stepped behind the bar, eyes focused on the shelf. “I know that to be in love, there has to be trust on both sides.”

“And you don't think Ryan is trustworthy?” Akmazian snarled.

Levi glanced up at him. “That is not what I am saying at all, but Ryan is a prostitute, Akmazian, plain and simple. You can't deny that fact. When love is for the highest bidder, there is no trust. Without trust, there is no love. The jealousy... it will drive you mad.”

“Levi!” Jane hissed, glancing between Akmazian, radiating murder, and Levi, seemingly unconcerned with that fact. “Look, Akmazian, there's nothing-”

Allowing a snarl to slip passed his lips, Akmazian rounded the counter, kicking over a box. A bottle shattered, spilling clear liquor across the floor and his boots. “There's nothin' to get jealous over. Ryan's just doing-” He stopped, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. Colors exploded behind his eyelids with the pressure. “Ryan's just doin' his job. That's all. There's nothin' to get jealous over. He still comes to my bed every night. What reason would I have to get jealous? I'm not jealous.”

“You would be surprised how often I hear that. And yet-”

“Levi,” Jane snapped harshly, “Enough!”

Levi glanced up at her, eyes wide. “What? Have I said something insensitive again?”

“Just like everything else you say,” she groaned, catching up to Akmazian, a hand on his shoulder, “It'll be fine, really. Just don't... don't let it get to you.”

Akmazian halted, eyes on the ground. “Easy for you to say. It's not your lover being forced to-”

“Ah, Mr. Hood, I've been looking for you. May we have a word?”

Jane startled, uncomfortable smile pulling at her lips. “Oh, Dr. Osolong, hi. H-how have rounds been today?”

“Uneventful, thank you for asking.”

Turning, Akmazian glared at the man. “Yes, let's talk, Oslo. I can't say that it's good to see you again.”

Smiling, Dr. Osolong crossed his arms over his chest. “No, I suppose you can't.”

“You two know each other?” Jane squeaked.

“You could say that. We're more like... passing acquaintances,” Dr. Osolong said, waving for Akmazian to follow him, “Come. Let's have a talk.”

Tapping Jane lightly on the shoulder, Akmazian followed after him.

 


	12. Chapter 12

“Akmazian, we need to talk,” Ryan said, his voice strong and carrying as he entered the cargo bay despite how his mind screamed for quiet, howled for that sweet oblivion that came from such a small needle, yelled that he was making the worst mistake he would ever make in his life. He quelled the voices filling his head as he'd done so many times before, sliding into the persona he'd managed for years before someone noticed the cracks. He was a good actor, he knew that. He could do this. He could do this. _He could_ -

“Darlin', what a pleasant surprise,” Akmazian cooed, his voice smooth and warm as he stood from one of his ship's engines, his arms black with grease from the elbows down. He seemed to perpetually be working on the damned thing, and he had to wonder when he'd give up the ghost. “What can I assist such a handsome man with this fine evening?” He stepped forward, reaching to wrap calloused fingers around Ryan's hips, but he stepped out of his reach.

Akmazian laughed grandly, dropping his hands back to his sides. “Right, sorry, darlin'. I forget how dirty engines are at times.” He slowed. The frown that jerked down the corners of his lips bit at Ryan, tearing out a chunk of facade, but not enough to make it falter. “Ryan, is there somethin' wrong?”

“We need to talk,” he repeated, keeping his eyes focused on his irises. He was sucked into their darkness, dragged down beneath their deep brown to the pain that was already beginning to bubble up within them. ' _Be strong. You can do this._ _ **Be strong**_ _._ '

Akmazian took a half step back, and Ryan felt the unearthly tug towards him in the pit of his stomach. Concern formed creases at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, you've already said that, darlin'. What is it? Is something wrong?”

“I-” He swallowed the truth that immediately shot up his throat, biting at the inside of his cheek until the bitter copper and salt of blood spilled across his tongue. He took another distancing step back, searching desperately for the strength to keep from reaching for him. Summoning the indifference he'd adopted in his first years of rehab, he smiled without feeling. “No, everything is fine. It's just that I don't want this anymore.”

Staring at him in an effort to understand, he whispered, “You- what? What do you mean?”

“I'm bored. I don't want to do this... this thing with you anymore. I need to focus on my job and my patients and this thing in the Alliance. I don't have time to be playing house with you and trying to uncover a conspiracy at the same time. It's not realistic, and it's dangerous not only for me, but everyone associated with me. It's just not possible. I have more impor-tant,” he stumbled over the word, his throat tight and resistant against the lies he was telling, “things to focus on.”

Silence fell between them, slippery and volatile, and Ryan could barely hold the gaze Akmazian had leveled on him. “I don't believe you,” he whispered, voice tight with emotion and something close to anger.

Startled, the facade slipped to sit sideways on his face. Ryan sputtered, “What?”

“I don't believe you,” Akmazian snapped, sharp and serrated, “I don't believe you at all! That look on your face tells me you're lying!” He grabbed Ryan's arm, grip firm, but gentler than his tone had promised.

His face faltered, and scrambling, he pulled up that old anger that always lurched in his stomach, searching for escape, pulling it over himself like a second skin. “I don't know what you think you are to me, Akmazian, but,” he paused, jerking his arm out of his grasp. An oily hand print stood out starkly against the baby blue of his scrubs. He took another step back, giving himself time to think of something more to say, something hurtful enough that he would stay away from his train wreck. “But it's not anything important! Don't pretend like you know me! Don't pretend like you care! This was never going to last, and now it's coming to an end. Time to cut your loses. I'm not going to be your piece of ass anymore.”

Suddenly, his heart constricted in his chest, wounded by his own words. ' _Too far! Too far! Too far!_ '

Akmazian's face crumpled in on itself, and he seemed to grow smaller as the tears slipped passed his lashes.

Never, never had he ever wanted to see Akmazian cry, least of all from his own words. It took every cell in his body fighting his heart to remain rooted in place, but he couldn't keep his masks up, and they fell, revealing what was beneath. Horror and shame and a need to go to him and take everything back. A need to make him feel as loved as he truly was.

Ryan remained still and silent, staring at the tears streaking down Akmazian's cheeks.

“Is that really how you feel, Ryan?” he finally asked, voice small as a breath, empty as a void.

“Yes,” Ryan forced out, but the lie was clear as Earth's summer skies. No, that wasn't how he felt. When he'd dragged himself to Akmazian's cargo bay, it had never been with the intention to crush him. He had been expecting to be the only one bleeding when he walked out. Now there were two hearts on the floor, the pieces mingling, indistinguishable as they bled out.

“I don't believe you,” Akmazian whispered again, but there was no conviction left behind his words, no fight left in his body, as he glanced around the cargo bay towards the nooks and crannies his crew had slithered into at the first sight of conflict, “But if that's what you want... I'll leave. I'll take my ship and my crew and my wares, and I'll leave.”

Ryan couldn't hold back the small squeak of protest that slipped passed his lips. “I-”

“I think it's time you go. You've said enough. We'll be gone by the nocturnal cycle.”

Feeling just the slightest bit lightheaded, warmth pressing sharply against the backs of his eyes, he nodded. Spinning on a heel, he flung himself from the cargo bay, all but sprinting until his body brought him to a stop. He collapsed against the closest wall, his legs crying out and his lungs screaming for relief. The corridor was dark, nearly pitch, and he crouched low, curling in on himself. Rocking back and forth, broken sobs spilled from his body until his tears dried and his throat was raw as sandpaper.

…..

When the news of Akmazian's pardon flooded the station, filling every corridor and every mouth of every being that thought they knew what they were talking about, Ryan didn't move. He'd dragged his knees closer to his chest, curling into himself more tightly on the corner of his bed where he'd lain for three days. Smiling hollowly at the screen, he flung it across the room just to hear the satisfying shatter. Pushing himself up, he found something acceptable for public dress, and went searching for the one thing that could make it all go away.

 


	13. Chapter 13

“So, Oslo, what the fuck do you want? When did brothels become your scene?” Akmazian's words were clipped, accent minimized by rage.

Oslo leaned his hip against the stage, mimicking Akmazian's position, arms crossed over his chest, but far more relaxed. There was a tension to his body though that spoke of the same rage showing plainly on Akmazian's face. “About the same time that you began smuggling for them, I suspect. Because of you, I'm under investigation. You know what they're saying about you, right?”

Akmazian huffed. “The Alliance? Of course I do. I'm not stupid. There's a reason I'm on the edge of the goddamn universe.”

A pleased smile pulled at the corners of Oslo's mouth. “That means you also know about the bounty they put on your head.”

Eyes narrowing to slits, he asked, “What do you want, Oslo? Are you trying to get blown up again?”

“No, I've had quite enough of that for one lifetime, but really, what is stopping me from telling the Alliance exactly where you're hiding? I know what will happen to you, we both do, but what will happen to all of these wonderful prostitutes if they raid this place, I wonder? Nothing pleasant, I'm sure.”

Akmazian snarled through gritted teeth, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want you to stop fucking Dr. Dalias. With you fucking him, he hasn't let me so much as tease him. From what I hear, he's a spectacular lover. I bought him, and I want my money's worth. That is all. Nothing terrible.” His words were flippant, accented by a cavalier flip of the wrist.

The smirk disappeared as Akmazian's fist connected with his jaw, metal impacting skin, sending him to the floor. Blood dripped from his parted lips.

“Fuck you, Oslo!” Akmazian forced himself to take a step back, fists curled at his sides, jaw clenched, so he wouldn't take that step forward and drive the steel toe of his boot into the other man's ribs. He wanted to break him knowing full well Ryan would never look at him again if he did. He wanted to break every single bone in his body. He wanted to send him to the grave.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jane rushing towards them.

Dropping into a crouch, he snarled, “Fuck. You. Oslo. If you want to keep on living, don't you dare touch Ryan. I will finish what I didn't all those months ago. I will rip you limb from limb. He's not a toy. He's a man. He has ambitions and he loves and he trusts. He doesn't deserve a fuck whistle like you hounding him. If you ever touch him, if you so much as harm a single hair on his head, I will make sure you do not live through the day.”

With blood painting his lips, Oslo grinned.

Reeling back, his face contorting as horror spilled into his blood, Akmazian stood, stepping back as if he'd been struck. Spinning, he grabbed Jane by the shoulders, “Where's Ryan? Jane, where is Ryan?”

“W-what? He's probably getting ready for tonight's show. Dr. Urvidian just told me he advanced your performance-”

Not waiting for her to finish, Akmazian took off, careening through the hallways.

…..

Akmazian burst into the studio just as Ryan was finishing the end of his tango, their tango. He was breathing harshly, his cheeks red with exertion, sweat dripping down his skin. Anger carved deep furrowing into his expression. He stood carefully, his arms falling from where they were embraced around his invisible partner, rage transforming into confusion as Akmazian rushed towards him.

“Ryan, darlin', oh god,” he whispered frantically, hands running searchingly over him, his eyes following their path. “Are ya hurt? Where did he hurt ya? I am goin' to rip him to pieces-” Too panicked to focus on his accent, it came out thick and cloying around his words.

“Akmazian,” Ryan snapped, grabbing for his hands and holding them tightly as he struggled, eyes still scanning over his body. “Akmazian, look at me. What's going on?”

“Where did he hurt ya? I need to know!”

“Ak, I'm fine. Who are you talking about?”

“Oslo! Where did Oslo hurt ya? Ryan, darlin', I'm so sorry. If I had known, I would have stopped him. I would have-”

A gentle, feverishly warm hand pressed to his cheek, silencing him as effectively as a punch to the mouth. “Hey, calm down. Look at me. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong. Well, I'm not hurt, at least.”

“But he-”

“Look at me,” Ryan said sternly, jerking on his wrist, and he did look. His eyes traced over him slowly, taking in every inch of unmarked skin, of the steady rise and fall of his chest, of the concern and confusion making his eyes shimmer. Soothingly, he murmured, “I'm fine. No one has touched me. Now, what's going on?”

“I-” Akmazian paused, swallowing down the bile he hadn't realized had risen into his throat. “Nothin'. I... it was just a misunderstandin'. I'm- It's fine. You're fine. That's all that matters.” He raised his hands, cupping Ryan's face gently, tracing his thumbs over his cheekbones. “You're alright.” Tentatively, allowing Ryan the time to push him back, he pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth, sighing when Ryan kissed him back, fingers loose around his wrists.

When they pulled apart, Ryan stared at him in concern. “Are you sure everything is alright?”

Akmazian nodded, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead to Ryan's. “Now that I know you're alright, everythin' is fine. You're safety is all I care about. I care about you so much, Ryan, do you know that?”

Ryan nodded, smiling. “It's the only thing I know for sure.”

His vision clouded and warped as he gave him a wobbly smile. “Good.”

…..

Akmazian paced back and forth in Ryan's dressing room, biting harshly at the arch of his finger. Jane sat on a stool by a full length mirror, following his steps with pursed lips. “You're wearing a path into the floor. Just sit down already. I still need to do your makeup since you're positively horrid at it,” she said idly, smirking as she shifted through an assorted pile of eyeshadows and lip stains. Plucking a pallet from the pile, she held it up, eyes flicking between him and the colors before shaking her head and setting it aside. “Seriously, Robin, you're just riling yourself up, and putting on your face is not going to take ten minutes.”

He waved her away with a hand, turning on a heel to pace back towards the opposite wall. “Help Ryan. I don't need any makeup. I don't think I could sit still long enough to have makeup put on me anyway.”

From behind a partition that had been erected around Ryan's corner, he called, “I don't need help putting on my makeup. I've been doing it for fifteen years.

“That must be why it always looks like shit,” Jane said sweetly.

“ _D_ _égage_ , Jane. It looks like shit because you see me after the show when its half melted or after a client when it's half gone,” Ryan quipped back, “Honestly, Ak, let her put some makeup on you, and then you can continue pacing.” He pushed back the partition, a silken robe wrapped tightly around his body. “I can't let you on stage without makeup. It's poor practice.”

“Darlin', I literally can not sit still for that.”

Ryan raised a shaped brow as if his words had been a challenge. “Come sit at my table.”

“Ry-”

“Sit.”

Akmazian sat heavily, his knee jumping incessantly against the last rung of the stool. He curled his fists against his thighs, sighing as Ryan slipped in front of him.

“Jane, go get ready, then help Levi. Lock the door behind you.”

“ _Aye aye, mon capitaine_. Just make sure you don't make too much of a mess.” She threw a wink and wicked grin over her shoulder as she pushed into the hall.

Ryan waited until he heard the door click securely into place behind him before sinking to his knees.

Akmazian groaned, expression tight. “Darlin', I don't think I can get it up right now, not enough to satisfy you. We have to dance soon, anyway.”

Ryan rolled his eyes towards the ceiling as he pulled open the clip on Akmazian's belt, pulling down his zipper. “I'm not horny, Ak. You need to calm down. Just sit back, and let me take care of you.”

“Ry, I don't think this is a good-” His words were cut off by the quiet moan that slipped from his mouth.

Ryan raised that damnable eyebrow up at him again, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I thought you said you weren't going to be able to get it up?”

Akmazian was a weak, weak man, and it showed as his head tiled back with a sigh of submission.

…..

Stupid. He'd been stupid allowing Ryan to pull him along until they'd both found their ends in each others' bodies. Oslo would know, would find out when his hands traced the path that Akmazian's had taken. He would know, and he would follow through on everything he had promised. Stupid. They had been so very stupid.

“Where's Ryan?” Jane chirped as she bounced on the balls of her feet, fidgeting with the short dress she wore. Her face was done up in muted colors of red and tan and pink to match her skin tone, the only splash of color the vibrant scarlet of her lips and sash around her waist. Her dress was black and soot grey. The skirt, a frilly mess of layered fabric, ended two inches above mid thigh. The corset was tight over her abdomen, ending beneath her breasts, covered in the same fabric and styled with stitched flowers and vines. “He needs to be here soon. We go on in just a couple minutes, and he's the star, dammit!”

“He'll be here. He told me I wasn't allowed to see what he was wearing until the performance,” Akmazain muttered, adjusting and readjusting his own outfit. He wore pants that would have been more comfortable painted on and a button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was the only one wearing the outfit.

Around them, the others all wore black shorts or pants with soot grey undershirts and dresses that matched Jane's, red sashes flashing in the dim light back stage. Their mouths were all painted the same vibrant scarlet. Akmazian's lips had been brushed with a blue so deep it nearly appeared black.

“Dammit, Ry. Where-” Jane started, biting at her thumbnail.

Levi cut her off, turning his head towards the back of the gathered dancers as they began to murmur excitedly, and said, “There he is.”

There was no time for Akmazain to turn as the music started on stage. He was ushered out, Levi dragging him forward until their movements fell into sync, mimicking each other. Faintly, violins sang, their voices vicious and cutting. “We have a dance in the brothels of Aryan 7 that tells the story of a prostitute, and a man... who falls in love with her.” Levi's words rang out over the crowd with only the barest hint of his accent, silencing any stray conversations still being held and slicing at Akmazian with ruthless efficiency as his eyes glided over him. He had never heard Levi's opening. He'd only danced to the instrumentation accenting every word, every blow.

From out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a flash of glittering white, a body sliding out onto the stage as a stream of black and red followed them, but his eyes were on Levi, his focus on the performance.

“First, there is desire. Then... passion!” Levi stepped closer to him than he ever had before, dragging fingers down his face. “Then... suspicion! Jealousy! Anger! Betrayal!” He shoved Akmazian back violently, forcing them apart, and then Ryan was in the space between them. He wore white as pure as a first snow, unmarred and untainted. His pants and vest glittered as if shot through with filaments of gold. In his pink locks glittered tiny, insubstantial diamonds. Delicate particles of glitter dusted every inch of exposed flesh, accenting the column of his throat and cut of his cheekbones. He wore no color save for his hair.

He was like an angel, shining and beautiful, and Akmazian instinctively reached for him.

He was snapped away from Akmazian as the others crowded in around them, dancing to the wail of the violins. Ryan slammed into Levi, staring up at him. Again, Levi shoved him back, nearly sending him sprawling though Akmazian rushed forward to catch him. “When love is for the highest bidder, there is no trust! Without trust, there is no love!”

There was a flash of dejavu, a memory of Levi saying the same words to him only hours before. He shuddered.

“Jealousy.” Levi stalked towards them, staring at the pair. “Yes, jealousy will drive you mad!”

The wail of the violins broke, and Akmazian and Ryan exploded into the next set of steps, pressing their bodies as close as they had been only a few minutes before.

Levi pulled them apart, entering a quick step sequence that slid them across the floor further from Akmazian.

He followed after them, Jane joining him as his partner, but his eyes never left Ryan. He dipped her low as he begun to sing. “ _His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It's more than I can stand_!” He threw Jane to Levi, pulling Ryan away from his grasp.

Those lyrics, simple words that should have meant nothing, were truer than anything he'd ever spoken.

Ryan was ripped from him again and again, passed from one set of arms to another, scarlet smearing across more of his skin each time he pulled him back, mingling with the blue that he brushed against him with each feather light kiss he gifted him. Their words mingled as his skin turned purple.

Akmazian couldn't find the moment when he'd begun singing to Ryan instead of to the audience that had faded into the background, his words pleading as he clutched at him desperately. “ _You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me! And please, believe me when I say I love you_!”

Something in Ryan's face crumbled, and he sagged into Akmazian's chest.

The stage paused, all bodies still against one another, Akmazian holding Ryan close, a hand cupping his face, as Levi spoke in his own language. The audience didn't need to know what his words meant. They only needed to hear the longing in Levi's voice, see the desperation in the way Akmazian held Ryan as if he could loose him at any moment.

Around them, the others began to move slowly, slinking around one another with sashes trailing from their fingertips. The violins began to screech.

Ryan and Akmazian threw themselves back into their tango, joining the others as their steps grew quick and Akmazian's voice rose with ever increasing need. “ _Why does my heart cry? Feelings I can't fight_!” he sang over and over, eyes focused on Ryan's even as he spun from him, no longer wearing the vest, and skin red from the others' mouths, but for his lips. His lips were almost exclusively blue.

The others' voices rang out around them, chorus to his solo.

Ryan reached for him, despair in his eyes, forgetting for a moment that this was a performance, that he had a role to play, that it wasn't supposed to feel as real as it did.

Akmazian raced after him as the others caught him again, passing him around and around, until finally, as the violins wailed their last, unending note, Ryan returned to his arms. He fell limp, his head lolling back, his body half collapsed, as a black sash fell over the two of them, thrown into the air by Jane or Levi hidden by the others' bodies.

He held Ryan's body in his arms, tears burning at the back of his eyes, only provided privacy by the black shroud around them. Forcefully, he reminded himself that it was all a performance, that none of it had been real, that Ryan was still alive in his arms. Before the tears could fall, cheers rose around them.

Jane flung the shroud from them, and she and Levi bent to pull them to their feet.

“Holy shit!” she screeched, vibrating to the very tips of her toes, “You two were amazing! It felt real there at the end!”

Akmazian and Ryan gazed at each other, swallowing harshly before turning towards the crowd.

…..

“You did great,” Ryan murmured as they were herded into his dressing room, the door slamming closed to keep out would-be customers and admirers. “You didn't miss a step. That's amazing. You can expect some offers tonight, probably.” Eyes downcast and voice monotone, the only obvious emotion was the jealousy setting his mouth into a tight line.

“I-” Akmazian started, but paused, staring at the purple blotching Ryan's skin. Bruising, that was the color of purple the red and blue had created together.

Stepping away from him, Ryan stripped from his pants, folding them over a stool and slipping into the briefs Akmazian had slipped down his hips earlier. He lifted a cloth from a tub of steaming water, starting the long process of wiping away the paint. Clear, unblemished skin appeared with each pass of the cloth, the white material taking on the red and blue and purple. “You should clean up before that dries. It will stain you skin if it does.”

Startled, Akmazian pressed the tips of his fingers to his face. They came away smeared with red and glitter. He hadn't noticed the others' mouths on him, his attention fully focused on Ryan and his ethereal form.

He took the cloth offered to him, cleaning his face with efficient strokes.

Jane burst through the door, bottles clutched in each of her hands and smile wider than the sun. “It's time to party!” she shouted, Levi trailing after her, and closing the door behind them. She paused, glancing between the two, taking in everything from their expressions to the purple still splotched across Ryan's neck to the solemn air surrounding them. “Hey, what's wrong? What's going on? The performance was a huge success. You guys should be ecstatic. Especially after only being able to practice for a week before hand.”

“I believe they are sad because Dr. Dalias must meet with Dr. Osolong for their... arrangement now that the performance has ended,” Levi explained, setting Ryan's pants aside and sitting on the stool they had occupied.

Jane glanced over them again, sighing as she set the bottles down. “Look you two, I can't coddle you forever. We knew this day was coming. We had plenty of warning. Now, it's time for Ryan to do his job, and then we can all get on with our miserable existences. Any way you look at it, this is going to happen.”

“What's in those bottles, Jane?” Ryan asked as he pulled off his briefs again and instead jerked tight pink pants over his hips. They were similar to the ones the other dancers had worn, but bore more ornamentation and less fabric. Thin straps of black leather lined his hips, following the curve of his thigh until they bumped up against the laces that crossed down to his ankles. He laced the black threads that crisscrossed over his crotch tightly, tying them off with several harsh jerks.

Blinking, Jane glanced down at the bottles, squinting at the labels. “Uh, like, Raspberry Vodka from Earth and... some kind of something that looks like Orange Sangria, but I can't be sure. It's not from Earth though.” She looked back at him. “Also, those pants are ugly and you should burn them.”

Wrinkling his nose, Ryan stretched out a hand. “Give me the orange stuff.” His nose still scrunched, he cracked open the bottle. “Also, the uglier I am, the better. Maybe Dr. Osolong will be disgusted by me and decide he doesn't want anything to do with me.”

Jane sighed, “Not with that much skin showing.”

“Dr. Dalias,” Levi said carefully, eyeing Ryan as he lifted the bottle to his lips, “I believe if Dr. Urvidian were here he would ask if this is really a wise choice in your state, and since he is currently not here, I am asking for him.”

With the bottle pressed to his lips, he gritted his teeth. Slowly, he dropped the bottle. “No, it's not,” he hissed scathingly, pushing the bottle back at Jane and turning to pull on the see through top that had been laid aside for him. He slammed onto the stool before his vanity, his knuckles pressing white against his skin. His shoulders hitched. “Fuck,” he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Ryan.” Akmazian dropped to a knee at his side, pressing a hand to his lower back. When Ryan's shoulder shook harder, growing frequent and constant, he pressed his forehead to his knee.

“Oh Ry,” Jane said, setting down the bottle to wrap her arms around him, Levi following close behind her.

They pressed close to him as sobs trembled through his body, quiet as the keening that slipped passed his lips.

“I can't do this anymore. I can't.” His voice was watery, barely audible over the sob that overlaid it. “I want this to be over, Jane. I can't do this anymore.”

She shushed him as a mother would a child, and after a moment, turned him to face her. “Just one more night. One more night, and then we'll help you figure a way out,” she told him. Picking up his eyeliner, she began her work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any lyrics I used in this chapter were courtesy of the song El Tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rouge which I listened to on repeat while revising this chapter.
> 
> Let me tell y'all a thing, I have been waiting to write that dance scene from the moment I started this monstrosity of a fic, and it may not have hit you guys in the feels, but I can honestly tell you that I was in tears writing it. I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out.
> 
> Another thing, things are coming to a close here. There should be maybe another four or so chapters before I draw this to a close. It's been a wild ride for me, and I hope y'all enjoyed it. Thanks for all of you who stuck around, and I'll see you at the ending.


	14. Chapter 14

“Come in.”

Osolong's voice was cheerful, almost expectant, as it drifted through the door to his quarters.

Setting his face into a stern glower instead of one that screamed out every ounce of need vibrating through his body, Ryan stepped into the spacious room. Pausing just inside of the doorway, he couldn't keep his eyes from the little glass vials of colored liquid Osolong was organizing. He blinked, turning his attention to glare at Osolong as he began to speak.

“Oh, sweetheart, I wasn't expecting to see you so soon!” he chirped, hands stilling as he leaned back in his chair. The lie was nearly visible in the air between them. “Did you enjoy watching him being acquitted? I certainly did. It was so... entertaining.” His smile was sharp and predatory. “Now, what can I-”

Irritated and agonized and wanting, Ryan had little patience for listening to Osolong's prattling and goading. There were already enough voices in his head prodding sharply at him to add his voice alongside theirs. He cut him off sharply, “Give me the next dose. Now.”

“Oh?” Osolong hummed, eyeing Ryan with a critical, calculating stare. Glancing towards the table, he lifted a vial. A plum liquid flashed in the overhead light. “Why the sudden rush? Need something to take the edge off? Have you fallen so far so quickly?” He clucked softly, shaking his head.

“This is what you wanted,” Ryan snarled, teeth gritted together until a dull ache spread through his jaw, “I'm here willingly. Give. Me. The. Next. Dose.”

A triumphant smile jerked up the corners of Osolong's mouth. “Sit on the bed. Take off your shirt.”

Following his orders, Ryan pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the other side of the bed before sinking to the mattress. The mattress accepted his weight graciously, dipping down just the slightest bit, firm beneath him. He fidgeted, staring out the window that overlooked one of the many hubs of the station.

He couldn't keep his mind from imaging what Akmazian was staring out at in that moment. Possibly, he was staring down at another man with colorful hair and a taste for the unorthodox, or maybe he was celebrating with his crew on the Silent Storm. Maybe still, he was looking out at the stars and wondering if Ryan was looking out at them too.

Osolong sat beside him, drawing his attention to the plum vial he was still holding aloft and the pride smearing his features. “This is my newest batch. This one is 'Depression'. I trust you can imagine what it chemically does to the brain. I can't imagine that I'll sell much of it, but it's not meant specifically for public consumption.” He hummed, staring lovingly at the vial. Pursing his lips, he stood, returning to the table. “But you're not ready for this one just yet. I need to keep you for awhile longer.”

He set the vial back among its brethren, fluttering his fingers over the others before plucking one from the line that was instead a scarlet so deep it made Ryan's mouth water. Filling a syringe, he returned, pride replaced by satisfaction. Tying a tourniquet around Ryan's bicep, he tapped at the inside of his elbow.

Ryan eyed the syringe, a trembling running along his muscles. “What's that one?” He flinched as Osolong inserted the needle, depressing the plunger in one smooth motion.

“Lust,” he purred, staring hungrily at Ryan. He pressed a thin piece of gauze to the puncture sight.

It was only a moment before Ryan's body flooded with equal parts pain and heat. They rushed through his veins, settling deep in his core. He howled wordlessly.

Osolong pressed him back into the mattress. “Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of you,” he crooned, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his throat.

…..

The shudders followed Ryan after the first night, constant and insistent as they rumbled through his body. They always brought with them waves of pain and nausea, usually accompanied by ecstasy or joy or elation.

Levi took notice.

Jane took notice.

Dr. Urvidian took notice.

So, Ryan found reasons to never be in their company any longer than necessary. There was a patient who needed his attention or he was needed in surgery or another doctor needed his opinion on an upcoming transplant. Always on the move, he rarely slept, only finding blissful oblivion on the nights Oslo called on him or the tremors became so bad that he would go to him of his own volition.

Mostly, he found himself in the supply closet Akmazian had often pulled him into for stolen moments of intimacy. Breathless kisses and adoring words, now tinged bittersweet with regret, were his only companions in the tight space.

He was curled in the back corner, wedged between a shelf of paper gowns and the wall. His mind wandered aimlessly. His body burned as if the Lust still flowed through him, incinerating him from the inside out, and he hated Oslo more than before.

He hated him for the thoughts the Lust conjured. The thoughts of Osolong's unnaturally cold hands superficially cooling the fire beneath his skin, taking more than he had to offer. Akmazian had never done that, had never forced him into a situation he didn't want, had never taken and taken and taken until he was only a dry husk of himself.

He bit at the inside of his cheek, whimpering in pain and need. Need for the high. Need for warm hands enveloping him. Need for the man he had driven away.

It had started as only twice a week, once for when he needed the oblivion and once for when Osolong called on him, but more often than not now, he found himself in Osolong's bed nearly every night. Drugs pumped through his system. They would come straight or as a cocktail of emotions in syringes of black liquid.

A whine of revulsion and piteous anxiety and hunger crawled up his throat.

The door to the closet pushed open.

He shrank back into the shadows. He'd been too loud, and despite his stature, he was too large to hide well where he sat. Acid burned at the back of his throat.

“Dr. Dalias? There you are!”

Dr. Urvidian strode toward him, face in shadow, but tone colored in the hue of a reprimand. “What in the ever loving hell are you doing hiding in a storage closet?” He words halted before what promised to be a long and involved lecture. He stared down at Ryan. Ryan's breath came faster with each inhale and his trembling grew worse the longer he sat curled into himself. He would not be able to stand soon. “Ryan? What's going on? Are you sick?”

“No, nothing. I'm fine,” Ryan muttered without any real conviction, reaching out a hand to pull himself to his feet, but he couldn't get a grip on the slick metal of the shelving. When he attempted to push himself up, his legs collapsed beneath him. Around him, the world grew darker, muffled, further away. He coughed into the crook of his arm. Scarlet dotted the baby blue fabric. “Oh,” he whispered faintly, mild surprise on his breath.

“Ryan!” Dr. Urvidian lunged for him too late, only catching the shoulder of his scrubs. He followed him down to the floor, slower as his joints creaked and moaned. “Nurse Johns! Nurse Johns, I need you in here. Now!”

Ryan watched numbly as Jane pushed open the door, a question on her lips before she gasped and threw herself back out the door. He watched as if from the bottom of a lake as she reappeared, her arms piled with supplies, Levi following curiously behind her.

“Doctor, look at his arm,” she whispered, horrified, as she pulled out his arm to insert an IV. He couldn't find the strength to resist her. “I'm calling Akmazian.”

“Don't,” Ryan tried to say, but no sound came out, or if it did, he couldn't hear it. Their frantic movements didn't stop. He tried again, forcing the words passed his raw throat. “Don't call, Ak. Please. He can't see me like this. I don't want him to see me like this.”

The trio paused, Levi's mouth sealing shut for the first time since they had met, Dr. Urvidian's and Jane's hands stilling as they glanced down at him. “What did he say?” Jane asked. Her voice was just barely there, barely above a whisper, and it took more energy than he thought he had to understand her.

“Don't want to see him?” Levi suggested.

Dr. Urvidian's jaw tightened. He turned away from Ryan. “Call him.” Ryan jerked towards them, but he turned quickly, pushing his shoulders down easily, seemingly without effort.

Jane nodded mutely, tapping at her wrist to bring up the video link screen. He could see the screen slowly connecting through the hologram back. After a moment, tired eyes and ragged hair and dark skin appeared, staring back at her. Ryan turned his face away from her as she turned her back to him, talking quickly. “You need to get back here right now. Ryan's sick. He needs you-” Her voice sharpened with anger. “No! Don't argue with me, Akma-” The anger fell away just as quickly as it had appeared, her voice softening, turning pleading. “Akmazian, he needs you. Please just... just get here-” She paused. Her voice was thick as she spoke again, watery and wobbly. “Thank you. See you soon. Yeah-”

“Ryan!”

Ryan heard Dr. Urvidian call his name, but the darkness had encroached on his vision, and he only sighed, “Akmazian.”

…..

Ryan woke slowly, swimming to the surface of his consciousness with aching strokes. He recognized this fatigue, this feeling of Death close beside him. It felt like an overdose, his eyelids sandpaper, his eyes suddenly lead balls in his head, nausea roiling through his stomach. He should have known. He should have known that this was how he would end. It had been inevitable, really, in hindsight.

This was not how he wanted it all to end.

His hearing was still muffled, but his glanced over when he heard Jane speaking sharp and short, paused in her vitals check. She was arguing with someone. “No! That is not an option here! He's seriously sick, Akmazian! You need to be here for him! You don't understand what he's been like since you left! Come back. Now! Ryan needs you!” She ended the comms link abruptly, turning back to his vitals.

“Don't-” No sound left his throat, and frustration dug at Ryan. His tongue was as dry as the sand paper that were his eyelids. Swallowing thickly, he made for a second attempt. “Don't bring Akmazian here. Don't want him to... see me like this. Don't want... He'll be disappointed.”

Jane's eyes darted to him. She set her tablet down quickly, hovering over him. “Don't talk, Ryan. You're really weak. You passed out, but we can't tell from what. There are so many things that could have caused it.” She swallowed harshly. “Ry... where... where did you get the drugs? Who was your supplier? There's something seriously fucked about them. They're-”

“Destroying my implant?”

Jane nodded slowly, eyes wide and mouth set in a hard line. “You know?” Her voice was only a whisper, just a breath in the room.

He nodded.

“Ryan, why-”

“Don't, Jane.” Ryan stared back at her as sternly as he could manage, which was not very sternly at all, swallowing once more. “Just... don't. It's done now.”

Jane opened her mouth, but she was given no time to say more.

Dr. Urvidian shoved into the small room he had been moved to, face cut deep with lines of grief. “Akmazian is nearly here. Less than an hour.”

“I just talked to him. He didn't say anything about where he was. He just kept arguing with me!”

“He called after you ended your comms with him. He's nearly here. Ryan.” Turning from Jane, Dr. Urvidian stared down at him, the lines of grief deepening until he was nearly unrecognizable. “Don't lie to me, Ryan. Have you been using again? I need to hear you say it.”

Ryan's arm twitched beneath the bed covers, the crease of his elbow itching incessantly. “Not... not willingly... at first.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don't want to know. You won't believe me.”

“What I don't believe is that you were fifteen years sober and willingly decided to use again. You brought me back to sobriety. So, I'm going to say this one more time, and you're going to tell me what I need to know.”

“No,” Ryan said hollowly, staring up at the ceiling passed Dr. Urvidian.

“Don't. Lie. To. Me. Have you been using again?”

“You have your answer already,” Ryan gritted out, curling his fingers into fists against the urge to dig his nails into his tender flesh. Immediately, his fingers trembled back open, too weak to hold pressure for long.

Dr. Urvidian swallowed, reaching back to lower himself into a chair. “Why?”

“No.”

“Ryan-”

“I said no. You're going to think what you're going to think, and I'm not going to waste what little breath I have trying to explain this to you. I just-” A cough ripped up his throat, and he spluttered on his words, choking as his shoulders shook. He struggled onto his side, hand pressed over his mouth. Blood trickled passed his lips. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as the others jumped towards him.

“I can tell you everything you need to know.” Voice silky smooth and handsome as a sunrise filled Ryan with dread.

The others jumped back from him, surprise bright in their eyes as they stared at the doorway. Only Dr. Urvidian remained at his side, hand pressed to his shoulder.

“No,” Ryan snarled, finding enough strength to push himself up onto an arm as Osolong stepped into the room, allowing the door to slide closed behind him. “Don't. You said you'd leave them out of this. Don't you fucking dare.”

Osolong smiled that sly, predatory smile that he normally reserved for Ryan. He lifted a hand, a vial of plum liquid flashing between his fingers. He laughed delightedly as Ryan stilled, eyes trained on the liquid as it sloshed back and forth.

His mouth went dry.

“Sweetheart, I said I wouldn't use them as test subjects or sell them to my clients, I never said I wouldn't tell them _everything_ you've been up to. You are so very naive.”

“Test subjects for what?” Dr. Urvidian growled, eyes darting between Oslo and where Ryan's eyes were transfixed. His expression dropped, hopelessness crawling over his face.

“Sold to who to do what?” Jane piped up.

Tearing his eyes from the vial with visible effort, Ryan stared back at Oslo. In that moment, his eyes were less human then they'd ever been, malicious and exhilarated. “Don't,” he whispered.

Stepping passed Jane, Oslo leaned close to Ryan, their lips only centimeters apart. They were so close that it would take Ryan very little to kiss him or bite him. He dangled the vial tauntingly out of his reach. “That wasn't part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“What is going on here?” Dr. Urvidian demanded.

Standing straight again, Osolong looked around at the small group of Ryan's friends, smile growing wider by the moment. “I've been developing new drugs, ones that use the chemicals of the brain as their basis. When they are done, they will be able to override that pesky implant in Dr. Dalias' head. And the good doctor -what a good doctor he is- made a deal with me. For information leading to the Destroyer of Stars' exoneration and freedom, he would allow me to test these new drugs on him and let himself be sold like a common whore to my clients. He did very well, such a good whore he was. He let them do whatever they wanted, let them manhandle and abuse him.”

“Oh dear,” Levi murmured.

Jane gasped, stepping away from the bed and Osolong, staring between them. She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, shaking her head.

Ryan felt another piece of what was left of him crack and slide from the precarious cliff he had found himself of.

“Yes, it is quite a shock, isn't it, Nurse Johns? Our good doctor, a junkie and a whore? It's unthinkable, but it is none-the-less the truth.” Osolong twirled the vial through his fingers, smiling genially all the while. Ryan couldn't keep his eyes off of it. “He did everything I asked him to. He came when I called. He hid everything so well. Then, I offered him another deal. You see, I wanted to increase my range of test subjects, but he wouldn't allow me.” His bottom lip puckered in a pout before the smile returned. “Instead, we agreed that he would be mine and mine alone. Body and mind. We haven't gotten to the soul yet, but it's not far behind. He broke it off with Akmazian. He came to me willingly for my drugs. For this, I cleared Akmazian's name.” His smile dropped into the mockery of sorrow. Someone like Oslo couldn't feel something as acute as sorrow. “But poor Dr. Dalias, his body is breaking down. That implant of his, once meant to help him, is now poisoning him. He's almost at the end of his time with us.”

“You- You monster!” Jane spat, fire burning in her eyes. “I will kill you if you so much as lay a finger-”

“Oh, but don't you see? He wants it so badly. He hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of it this entire time. Just look at him.”

She did. They all did.

He was fading quickly, his vision growing darker with each successive moment, but he couldn't bring himself to turn his eyes from the vial. He wanted scream. He wanted to sob. He didn't even have the energy to lift his hand.

“Ryan,” Dr. Urvidian whispered hoarsely.

“But that is why he won't be getting this last dose. I still have more tests to do. So make him better. Get him back on his feet. If you let him die, you will be my next subjects.” With that, Oslo turned to leave.

“No,” Ryan croaked, but Oslo's answer was only a satisfied chuckle.

…..

They didn't get Ryan back on his feet. He woke to a darkened, empty room, the slow beep of his monitors the only sound. Mustering the small amount of energy he could, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the door.

The infirmary was dark as well, the nocturnal lights on, flushing the halls in red. The door to Dr. Urvidian's office was cracked, three shadows dancing across the back wall.

“How did it get to this point! How could you let it get this far!” Akmazian shouted. Something crashed to the floor, and Ryan flinched away from the pull his voice had on him.

Finding the first thing he could used as a weapon -a shiny, clean scalpel- he tucked it into his sleeve. Using the wall for support, he made his way achingly towards Osolong's quarters. He was still awake when he got there, the door sliding open with his command.

“Sweetheart, you should be resting,” he cooed with faux sympathy, steadying Ryan as he stumbled through the door. On the table, the vials were aligned. They had multiplied, growing from a small row of ten to hundreds. A rainbow of liquids for a multitude of addicts. “Didn't you hear what I said I would do if you died?”

Ryan stumbled into Osolong. He pressed his face into the crook of his shoulder and neck, the sudden jostling pulling a groan from him.

“Oh, you poor dear. You just couldn't go a day without my arms around you. I understand. Come, let's go to bed,” he murmured in Ryan's ear, kissing down his neck and running his hands town his emaciated chest. Ryan wasn't listening. Before he could drag them back towards the bed, Ryan lifted his fist and shoved the scalpel into the thick vein of blood pumping life through Osolong's body.

Screeching, Osolong shoved Ryan away from him. He clutched at his neck, pressing his hands over the artery, but he was already going pale. Blood leaked between his fingers, crimson and bold against the monochrome of their surroundings, flowing far too fast to stem. He was already dead as far as Ryan was concerned. Staggering back, he collapsed onto his bed, gurgling and writhing.

The crimson of his life blood stained the pristine white of the sheets, finally bringing out their true color.

Crashing into the table, his chest heaving with exertion, Ryan grabbed a single needle and the plum vial.

“This ends tonight,” he gasped, staring at Osolong, even though he wasn't sure if his voice had been string enough to be heard.

It didn't much matter though. Osolong had already stilled, eyes staring dully at the ceiling.

…..

Ryan found himself in Akmazian's abandoned cargo bay thinking of the first time they had met, of how horribly wrong everything had gone, but also of what it had led to. He had never been happier in his life once the pieces had fallen into place. He wondered if they had noticed his absence yet. He thought that maybe they had, but hoped they wouldn't find him.

He had never been religious, not in any concrete sense, but he still thanked whatever or whoever looked over him for the small favor that they hadn't yet found him. His father's face was what came to mind, materializing out of the darkness to crouch down in front of him, and so, that was who he thanked.

He thanked him for being his father. He thanked him for being there through his life. He thanked him for keeping Akmazian away when his life had spiraled into the darkness again. He thanked him for Akmazian not being forced to watched him perish and wither away.

Stretching out a hand, his father ruffled his hair, smiling gentle. No sound came from his lips as they moved, but Ryan smiled anyway, just a little boy being comforted by his father again.

Carefully, Ryan filled the needle with the plum liquid. He tied a thick tube of plastic around his bicep. When he looked up again, his father was gone, and he thanked him once more for that as well.

The liquid was black in the near darkness of the cargo bay as he found Osolong's preferred puncture point, and slid the needle into his skin. Releasing the tourniquet from his bicep, he dropped the needle to the floor and slumped back against the wall.

He sighed as the drug slid through his system, tightening his chest and extinguishing all emotions save for the small flame that still burned for Akmazian. His chest held it gently, concealing it from the drug sliding slickly through his body. “Oh,” he whispered miserably, allowing his body to slide sideways to the floor.

In only a moment, the drug reached his implant, and it all but exploded. A spark traveled down to the base of his spine, and he knew it was over. There was no more implant, nothing to fight against the drugs. Warmth spread from the base of his skull, bringing agony along with it.

Ryan moaned quietly because that was all he could do, and closed his eyes. Coughing, he splattered the ground with blood.

The darkness slipped over him, darker than the black that already filled the cargo bay. Absolute darkness. Only for a moment, he heard Akmazian's anguished cry. He swam to the surface of the dark one last time. It was his end, but it wasn't Akmazian's. He was here to hold Ryan one last time.

That was the last thing his father could offer him, he supposed, and he thanked him for that too.

 


End file.
